For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge
by Eoko
Summary: A KittyEoko Collab. Prison life may not be very glamorous but Seifer makes the best of it. One of the top dogs, he's content with the way things are. That is until a new inmate upsets the status quo and refuses to behave like a new inmate should. Yaoi.
1. Grievous Bodily Harm

_**For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge. - **__A Kitty and Eoko Fanfiction._

Warnings: Violence, yaoi, terrible language, etc.

Pairings: Not a chance.

Disclaimer: We don't own the Square characters, but we own all the others. We make no money off this fanfiction, only write for the enjoyment of ourselves and our fans.

Author's Notes:

Kitty: So, here we are with another Kitty and Eoko collaboration fic!

Eoko: Because two pwns is greater then one.

Kitty: Or something like that. Hm, it's been a long time since either of us uploaded anything.

Eoko: I blame school, and MMORPGs.

Kitty: And RP. Always RP. And cosplays. So many cosplays. You know I haven't even started this years' ones yet. D:

Eoko: It's the 1st/2nd of the year right now. I think you can forgive yourself that.

Kitty: I don't know. A lot to do, not a lot of time. Anyway! The fic. Heh. I love this one.

Eoko: The one I forced myself into. XD

Kitty: Oh yeah... It wasn't going to be a collaboration at first... Then towards the end, you were like "I don't wanna wriiite." :P

Eoko: Shut up! So it took me like over half a year to get a crappy chapter done! The important thing is, here it is!

Kitty: Finally. Now that our Lightning readers are old and grey. Kekekeke.

Eoko: This A/N'll be longer than the fic at this rate. Let's give those that didn't skip it what they want.

Kitty: Right! Onto the fic of prisony goodness!

_Chapter 1. - Grievous Bodily Harm._

"Jade! Hey, Jade! Jade! _Jade_!"

The voice was not particularly high, or particularly low, but at a pitch that just grated on one's nerves and made one want to snap the neck of the man from whom it came. He was 6'1, with spiked raven hair that was dyed red at the tips, and his eyes were a grey-green.

The bizarre call was directed at a blond man who sat on a bench working with a smallish dumbbell in his right hand. His given name was Seifer Almasy, but it had been a few years since anyone but arseholes had called him that. As the smaller man skittered to a halt, he switched the weight to his other hand.

"Jade! Jade, man, are you with us? _Jade_!"

"I heard you the first time you little fuck. I'm _ignoring_ you…" he growled finally, jade eyes glaring daggers at the other man. He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose, fingertips ghosting over the scar that lay there. "What is it, Lock?"

"New blood," Lock, referred to outside as Rikan Fawns said simply, grinning.

"Yeah, and?" Seifer wondered boredly, glancing sidelong at the man beside him. This one was another blonde, much shorter and with a distinctive tattoo down the side of his face. He grinned.

"Yeah, I knew," he said with a slight shrug. "Thought it'd be a nice surprise." What wasn't a surprise was that Zell Rubedo Dincht, affectionately designated 'Ink' for obvious reasons, already knew.

"Fucktard…" was Seifer's only response, but the other blond grinned.

Lock seemed about ready to burst with excitement. Fuck, he was annoying.

"You'll like him, Jade. A _lot_…"

"Oh…" Seifer said, sounding a little more interested. "_That_ sort of new blood…"

"Now that, I didn't know," Zell muttered, pushing his bangs back from sapphire eyes.

"Well," Seifer decided with his trademark smirk. "We should go make him welcome, wouldn't you agree, Ink?"

"I would," the other blond replied with a fangy grin.

They both stood, Rikan grinning like an idiot at them, and followed him across the yard to wait at the gate for the new inmate. Seifer pulled out a cigarette, at which Rikan looked longingly and Zell frowned. He ignored them both and lit up, sighing happily when he took his first drag.

"Hey, boys." Another man sidled up beside them, running a hand through his hair.

"Hey, Prof," the others replied in a monotone and Seifer offered him the cigarette. The Prof was 5'10 and possessed chocolate brown hair and true blue eyes. His real name was Illo Ditermin. He took the cigarette with a wink, then handed it back when he'd had a taste. Even Seifer wasn't about to get on Illo's bad side, not when that meant getting on the Boss's bad side. Besides, Illo knew things, and sometimes that was useful.

"New inmate?" he hazarded, then when they nodded, he looked to Zell. "What's he in for?"

"You know I can't tell you that," Zell said, slight reprimand in his voice. "That's up to him."

"Apparently, he's got a nice arse," Seifer said. "According to Lock."

"How would Lock know?" Illo looked directly past Rikan to ask the question of Seifer, totally ignoring the fact that the man was standing right there. Zell rolled his eyes.

"I don't know," Seifer replied, then looked at Rikan. "How _would_ Lock know?"

"Lock saw them take him to the front office," the red-haired man said mockingly, curling his lip at Seifer.

"Don't push it, dipshit…" Seifer muttered, then to Illo; "Lock saw them take him to the front office."

"Interesting," Illo mused, scratching at an ear.

"Hey, Ethan!" Seifer suddenly called in a sing-song voice and they all followed the green gaze to where a black haired man with brown-gold eyes was sitting in a chair reading a magazine. He looked up in time to get Seifer's smouldering cigarette butt in the eye.

"_Fuck_!" he snarled with feeling and Seifer smirked. Rikan and Illo were just about rolling around with hilarity, but Zell just shook his head.

"What?" Seifer wondered. "Man's a dickhead."

"Arsehole," Rikan put in.

"Wanker," Illo added.

"I get it," Zell said blandly before they went any further.

"Hey!" Rikan cried suddenly. "Look!"

Down the cement walkway leading to the compound came a guard followed closely by what they presumed to be the new inmate, who was flanked by another two guards and followed by a detective.

"Well!" Seifer called. "If it isn't Detective Ice-Cock! How delightful that you should grace us with your presence!"

The others snickered.

"Still as charming as ever, I see Mr. Almasy…" was the deadpan reply. "And it's Detective Leonhart to you."

Seifer curled his lip and suddenly wished he hadn't wasted the cigarette butt on Ethan.

"Watch it, Jade…" Zell warned lowly.

"You shouldn't encourage them to use those inane names, Dincht," the frontmost guard said gruffly as he unlocked the first set of gates and lead the little procession through, re-locking the gates behind them before he came to the second set. Zell ushered the other three a few steps back.

"Shut up, Kinley. You do your job and I'll do mine, alright?" Zell growled back, glaring at the burly guard.

"Alright," Kinley replied with a smile that bordered on evil. He pushed the gate open and grabbed a fistful of the new inmate's uniform white singlet top. "Put a toe out of line, Kinneas, and you'll be sorry…"

Seifer and the others watched with great interest as the tall, auburn haired man delicately curled his lip as though looking at something smelly squashed on his shoe, then calmly spat in the man's eye.

Even Zell didn't bite back a grin while the other three fairly roared with laughter.

The new inmate's triumph was short-lived, however, as Kinley backhanded his face twice in quick succession. The other guards stood passively by while the Detective growled, but didn't say anything. Zell, however, leapt forward.

"Let him the fuck go, Kinley!" he snarled and dragged the guard's fist from the inmate's shirt, inserting himself between the two. The inmate lifted his 'cuffed hands to wipe blood away from a split lip and glared balefully over the little blond's head. His eyes spoke murder.

"Back off, Dincht! You don't have any say over what I do."

"Just try it," Zell growled, fisting his hands and making a menacing move towards Kinley.

The guard stood his ground for barely a heartbeat before he turned away with a muttered "Bah!" and passed the new inmate, pausing only long enough to unlock his 'cuffs and shove him through the gates, which slammed shut behind him.

"Meet your new pal, Ladies. Irvine Kinneas," he growled through the bars.

"Captain Hardarse strikes again…" Illo muttered.

"What did you say?" Kinley growled, but Illo just gave him the finger and walked away with the others.

Zell was giving the newbie instructions on where everything was and what was expected of him, but Seifer didn't think he was listening. He looked like he couldn't care less. That was confirmed when the redhead stopped walking, turned to Zell and wondered acidly; "Do you ever fuckin' shut up?"

Seifer knew he couldn't be the only one staring. The new inmate had spoken loud enough for the entire yard to hear, and he had an accent and voice that made Seifer's skin tingle. His voice said cowboy, cowboy said… fuck, _yes_. Mmm mmm.

"You oughtta be careful who you run that pretty mouth off at Irvine, was it…?" Seifer said.

The newbie arched a brow, cocked a hip, stuck a hand on it and gave Seifer a very obvious once-over, then just shrugged.

"Not to you. And my mouth ain't pretty…" he growled, then added with a smirk; "Least, not right _now_…"

"Fuck me stupid…" Rikan breathed, obviously in awe, and Seifer twitched as the new inmate turned his back and left them all behind.

"What a self-satisfied little prick…" Seifer muttered.

"Paris," Illo said suddenly and they all looked at him.

"Cowboys don't come from Paris, Prof," Zell said, making Seifer and Rikan snort.

"Not _that_ Paris, idiot… Paris from the Iliad."

They all gave him the blank looks he'd long come to associate with his fellow inmates. Uncultured idiots… He sighed.

"Does _Troy_ ring a bell?" he wondered.

"With the horse?" Seifer wondered back.

"Yes. With the horse. Do you know _why_ they used the horse?"

"No," the others said in unison.

"Because it was a war, and they couldn't breach Troy's walls any other way."

"Where the fuck is this going, and why the fuck is taking forever to get there?" Seifer growled.

Illo rolled his eyes. They had no idea. The very concept of drama went right over their heads.

"The war was over Helen, whom _Paris_, the man, not the city, had stolen away."

"What does that have to do with-"

Illo spoke over Rikan.

"_Paris_ was considered to be _the_ most beautiful man anywhere at the time, but he was also too self-serving and wrapped up in himself to care about the fact that stealing another man's wife – i.e. Helen – could be the end of Troy."

"A self-satisfied little prick!" Seifer said with a grin.

"Yes," Illo replied, rolling his eyes.

"Paris," Seifer said, tasting the name, then he gave another devilish smirk and turned on his heel. "Later, boys," he threw over his shoulder as he went in the direction the newly-dubbed Paris had gone.

Irvine, meanwhile, was leaning against a wall imagining all the things he'd like to do to 'Captain Hardarse' with a sharp stick, several pieces of wire and a bottle of acid. _Arsehole… He'd've known about it if I weren't 'cuffed…_

"Hey, Paris!"

"Paris?" he repeated, lifting his head and arching a brow at the tall blond.

"Ask Prof. He'll explain. He knows his shit."

"Good for him. I'm excited…" Irvine said flatly, absently thumbing a rapidly-swelling lip.

"That looks painful."

"I've had worse… What do you want?"

"Just being friendly…"

Irvine gave a disbelieving snort, now touching his lip with his tongue and flinching.

"Dammit…"

"He got you a good one, Paris…" Seifer observed, stepping closer and briefly touching the broken lip. Irvine jerked his head away and glared, a hand coming up to push his hair out of his eyes.

"My name ain't Paris and like I said; I've had worse."

"Look, your attitude isn't going to get you anywhere. For starters, you can't talk to Ink like that."

"Why? I hurt your li'l bitch's feelin's? Like I give a flyin' fuck…"

Seifer growled and lashed out, hand fisting in Irvine's singlet and ramming him back against the wall.

"Watch your mouth! You're playing with the big boys now, and you better not forget it. You're at the bottom of the pecking order, _Paris_, and you need to know your place."

Irvine opened his mouth to speak, but was silenced by Seifer's tongue. The blond pressed close, one hand pressed to the bricks beside Irvine's head, the other sliding up under his shirt. Irvine bore it for only a few moments before Seifer felt the cold tip of a knife pressed to his stomach.

He broke the kiss, staring at Irvine and a self-satisfied smirk curled the red-head's lips. It was the kind of smirk Seifer hated. The kind of smirk he, in fact, had down to a fine art. It vanished in a moment in favour of a heated glare.

"You better watch _yourself_, Blondie… I ain't no pansy-arse li'l bitch you can push around and do whateverthefuck you like to. You may be stronger than me, but you can bet your lily-white arse I'm faster. I'll come back at you like a rattler with toothache. What, you think I got put in here for stealin' a loaf of bread, rustlin' a couple cattle? Uh-uh. So back the _fuck_ off."

A slight jab with the knife drove Seifer back two steps, and Irvine lifted his other hand to shove the blond further away.

"Shithead…"

"No fuckin' kiddin', Einstein. I ain't playin' no power games, and I ain't goin' to be _your_ bitch. No one fucks me… unless I want them to."

Irvine strode away, closing and hiding the switchblade knife, then pulling out a pack of cigarettes. Seifer wondered how the hell he'd gotten the knife past Kinley – or any of the other guards for that matter.

Zell watched Irvine stride past, then arched a brow and looked back the way he had come, cocking his head in question when Seifer reappeared. The taller blond threw up his arms as he came towards the shorter.

"He turn you down…?" Zell wondered, a smirk threatening.

"No one turns me down…" Seifer growled back.

Zell's smirk grew.

"He did! I can't believe it!"

"No one turns me down!" Seifer repeated, shoving Zell none-too-gently. "Shut your fucking mouth."

Zell burst out laughing, so that several men turned with interest to see what was so funny. Seifer glared at them, and they all suddenly found something to make them look very busy.

"That's too funny."

"Ink! I'm warning you!"

The warning didn't sink in, because Zell just kept laughing, holding his stomach. Seifer put up with it for a while, then finally got sick of it and crash-tackled the shorter blonde. Everyone mostly ignored them. 'Sparring' matches between them weren't uncommon.

But Irvine looked over where he stood off to one side, and watched them with a bored expression, a cigarette between his lips and his arms folded across his toned chest. He shook his head and rolled his eyes, then let his gaze travel around the yard. Seifer wasn't the only one watching him, but he was used to that. He knew he was prettier than the average man, and he knew that made people assume he was weak. If only they knew…

Irvine closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the wall, sighing. How unbelievably boring. How stupid to have gotten caught. Oh, how delightful it would be to tie down Detective Leonhart and torture him until he screamed for mercy… He opened his eyes again and took another look.

Still ridiculously boring. And he had a craving for chocolate.

He hoped that pretty little reporter would stay true to her word and keep up the visits so she could 'let the outside world know the conditions criminals live in'. Then, he could con some chocolate out of her. He had a feeling if he suggested ways he could use it on her body with a purr in his voice, she'd bring it to him, even if the likelihood of him being able to do those things with it was very low.

He dropped the cigarette butt and stamped out the sullen flame, then sighed and went to look for something interesting to do that didn't involve becoming someone's bitch.

_Damn you, Leonhart… I _will _kill you one day. And I'll take a very, _very_ long time about it…_

- - - - - - -

"See? I told you you'd like him!" Rikan said later as he, Seifer and Zell watched Irvine eating, off in a corner by himself.

"Shut up, Lock. I hate him."

"Of course. You _hate_ him…" Zell teased, snickering. "You keep saying that if it makes you feel better about the knock-back."

"I'm gong to kill you, Ink."

"I'm trembling."

"Oh, go fuck… someone…" Seifer growled, and they both ignored how eager Rikan looked in favour of finishing their meals.

"Seriously, though, he _is_ hot…" Zell mused, gesturing with his fork for emphasis.

"Whore…" Seifer growled.

"That's why you like me so much."

"Shut up, Ink. I hate you."

Even Rikan snorted while Zell just laughed and continued eating. Things over the next little while were going to get very, very interesting…


	2. Trespass

_**For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge.**_

_ A Kitty and Eoko Fanfiction._

Warnings: Swearing – quite a bit. (This new word program I have keeps trying to predict my words, and it just gave me "bitchiness" as I was trying to type "bit"... Go figure.) Horny boys, the usual stuff.

Pairings: La la la la.

Disclaimer: Eoko and I do not own the FF8 characters, however we do own everyone else. So there. :P We also own the plotline. We do not make any money off this fic, but only write for our enjoyment and the enjoyment of all the hentai fans out there. XD

Author's Notes:

Kitty: How long ago did we put up the last chapter? I don't remember. Trying to do it fortnightly, but I went away last week.

Eoko: Well, it wouldn't be hard to check, but why do that when we can just update now?

Kitty: Well, exactly. Why waste time? Eoko! Take note of the date, and calculate the next update day.

Eoko: Right! Uh, what's fortnightly again?

Kitty: -.- Every two weeks.

Eoko: We don't use that. We say, bi-monthly? Do we? I don't know. Every two weeks it is!

Kitty: You say bi-monthly for every two weeks? -snerk-

Eoko: Well it's still right.

Kitty: But wouldn't that be every two months?

Eoko: According to Merriam-Webster dictionary, it's both. Go the English language.

Kitty: That makes less sense than a fortnight... O

Eoko: -shrugs-

Kitty: No wonder it's hard to understand our language. Oh well. At least we know all our readers know enough about it to read!

Eoko: Indeed! Now, we should probably let them do that!

_Chapter 2. - Tresspass._

It was a short time after lunch that two guards brought Irvine Kinneas into the cell block. They weren't especially pleased with Kinley at the moment. He should have taken the inmate directly to his cell from the main office, not _around_ the fucking complex to the yard.

But things couldn't be changed, so they'd located Kinneas and piled his things into his arms before marching him off to his cell. Wouldn't have done anyone any good for lock up to come only to have an inmate_unable_ to go into his cell because _they_ hadn't shown him where it was.

They stopped in front of one of the cells on the first floor, one that was obviously occupied. "Alright, Kinneas. You'll be in with Almasy."

Zell peeked his head out of his open cell and stared at them before coming out and over. "You can't put him in with Jade! He'll have a fit!"

"Hey now, Dincht. You know we don't have any say in who goes where. Warden makes the arrangements, and he says Kinneas is in there. Nothing we can do about it." At Zell's obvious display of displeasure the officer continued. "Ya know what? I'll mention it, alright? But it'll do just about as much good me doing it as you."

Zell sighed audibly and looked over at Irvine.

He'd walked into the cell and promptly grabbed everything off the top bunk, tossed it unceremoniously on the bottom, then tossed his newly issued sheets and other things up on top.

The tattooed man stared at his actions. Alright, so he didn't know the pecking order, or who Jade was, or even how he _should_ behave in prison… but that… just was… _blatantly wrong_. Even the two guards still standing there couldn't believe it.

The blond looked back at them and smirked. "Well, you guys be ready to handle a _fuck load_ of shit with them then." He snorted and walked into Seifer's cell, dismissing the guards who soon took their leave.

"What the fuck you doin' down there?" Irvine asked from his place on the top bunk.

"I'm going to fix up this bloody mess you made." He leaned over and started making the bed and putting everything where it belonged. "You're asking for it… Waltzing in here and taking Jade's bunk."

"There's two bunks, and he can bite my arse if he don't like it."

Zell snorted at that. "You're gonna get yourself in shit," he mumbled, almost more to himself, finishing up with the bed sheets. "I could help ya out, get ya settled and stuff."

"And stuff, my arse. Fuck you. I can handle myself just fine. Don't need you or nobody offering me your _help_. Ain't gonna be_your_ short arse's little bitch neither, so fuck off."

The blond glanced up at him. He wasn't even looking down, just laying on his back, eyes focused on the ceiling. Fuck, he really was Paris. They could only hope this Paris wouldn't turn their Prison into Troy.

- - -

The annoying blond_ maid_ had blessedly left as soon as the room was tidy. Probably went running back to his master like a good little bitch to tell him what had happened. Up side, he was gone. Down side, things were fucking boring again. Prison did not suit him. At. All.

He swung his legs over the side of the bunk and slid off, landing gracefully on his feet with a slight bend to the knee and virtually no sound. Had to find something to pass the time.

Irvine walked out of his cell and looked around briefly. He caught sight of the steps to the second level and headed off, eyes set in a permanent glare and body emanating a 'fuck off' vibe.

His natural 'come hither' looks did not help him in his mission to keep potential fuckers away, but with a few snarls and stinging words he managed to make his way up to the second floor and to a nice spot against the rail to observe.

He wasn't stupid. He knew damn well he was making more enemies than friends at the moment, and getting on _everyone_'s bad side. But he wasn't going to jump into the pocket of the first guy that offered. No way in hell.

It wouldn't be hard to find the kingpins, who had the real power inside. Those were the people to ally with. Not some horny arse fag. Last thing he needed was being a bitch, and then getting whored around because his guy'd been so low on the ladder.

Irvine lifted one hand to cup his cheek while he watched the men below. It was a little sad how there were "cliques" everywhere. As plain as they were in high school, they were there in prison.

Men telling the stories of their crimes, what went wrong, what they'd've done different. So on and so forth. Newer blood trying to learn as much as they could for when they got out again. Crime College really.

And there was that annoying little blond again. He made Irvine furrow his brow. For some reason he didn't _fit_ any of the groups he stopped to hang with. He didn't belong, but he was always welcomed. And he was nearly always smiling. What the fuck he have to smile about?

"Enjoying the view?" a familiar voice asked as someone joined him against the rail.

"Bloody brilliant, really." He basically ignored the green-eyed blond from before. He continued to watch the annoying one. He'd headed into a cell on the opposite side of the building, making it easy for Irvine to see what was going on.

"You watching Ink? Didn't realize you were into his type." Seifer's voice was casual. He hadn't yet been to his room to see what had taken place.

The auburn haired man scoffed and rolled his eyes. "The fuck is up with him? He don't got no place. He's everywhere. Never stays still. Annoying fucker."

"I told you, don't talk shit like that about Ink. You'll have an army on your arse before lights out."

Irvine curled his lips into a smirk and turned his head a little to look at the tall blond beside him. "Oh? Did I have it all wrong before? Are you _his_ little fuck toy?"

Seifer glared daggers at him. The guy should be on his knees, asking forgiveness for previous indiscretions in _obvious_ ways. Instead he was quickly making his way up the list of his least favorite people. "Watch your fucking tongue, or it's gonna get ripped out." His voice had a certain bite in it that hinted at how serious that statement was. "Ink's different. You treat him right, like everyone else."

"He that important?" Irvine inquired, more shocked than anything, but still interested.

The blond chuckled. "Could say that. He's a guard."

"Was a guard, you mean," the more slender of the two said, as if stating a fact.

"I mean what I said. He's a guard."

"Don't look like no fuckin' guard I've ever seen." He looked back to the blond on the ground floor and lifted a brow at him, as if inspecting an ant. "Besides. If he's a guard how come he ain't dead yet?"

Seifer rubbed at his temples. "Sometimes I hate fish. Okay, Paris, let me explain, briefly. You wanna know more, ask him. Ink's in here for work. He lives in here, he eats in here. Aside from his rounds and some sad piece of shit he's gotta write up each month, he is a prisoner."

Irvine sneered in disgust. "Let a rat live among you. Fuckin' disgustin'."

The blond promptly turned and slapped him across the face. "You fucking well listen. You know shit all about what goes on here, so shut the hell up and learn something. Ink ain't never been a rat. And he ain't ever going to be. Part of his contract. He won't fuck that up. Only stuff he ever talks to the guards about is what we let him. Otherwise he's as tight mouthed as us, lot more than some of us."

Irvine stared at him for a moment before regaining his detached persona. "Still can't believe he's still alive."

"He's got the head guys on his side. Besides, he's a black belt in I don't know how many disciplines _and_ he's strong as fuck. Probably faster than you too, Paris. Do not underestimate him, and don't talk trash about him. He does good things for us."

He wasn't listening anymore, not so much anyway. He was mentally kicking himself. Jade, if he'd overheard the tattooed man correctly at the gate, had said 'what we tell him' which, with minimal deductive reasoning, meant that he was one of the top guys. And it looked like the guard would make a useful "friend" too.

"Explains why that fucker backed down when he brought me in," he commented dryly.

"Captain Hardarse, fuck. He gives Ink more shit than the fish." Seifer pushed off the rail and started off, but paused just a moment and looked over his shoulder. "You need to find yourself some allies pretty quick, or you're going to end up the victim of a gang bang or two."

Irvine just snorted and rolled his eyes. But he wondered to himself; was that a warning? …or a threat?

- - - - - - -

The bell for lock up rang and everyone wandered back to their cells, in no real hurry to get there. Seifer was the first to get back to _his_ cell to see the slight change of scenery. He didn't even have time to swear before Irvine stepped into the cell, the bars shutting behind him.

The blond spun and glared. "What the _fuck_!?"

"Looks like, sadly, I'm your cell mate." Next moment he was swinging himself up onto the top bunk and staring at the ceiling.

"I can't have a fucking cell mate! I'm Seifer _fucking_ Almasy!" Oh… he was pissed. He didn't use his own name like that unless he really wanted to make a point.

"Almasy?" Irvine queried, brows furrowed in thought, then relaxing with a shrug. "Never heard of him."

"You lying fuck!" Seifer grabbed his pillow and swung it up at Irvine as hard as he could.

"Jade! Stop it!"

The blond turned from his victim to the front of his cell. Zell was there, hands curled around the bars. "He's in my cell," he seethed.

"Shh, I know. Come 'ere." He motioned with one hand. He smiled when Seifer did come over. "Look, I know you're upset. I even made a snit about it when they brought him in. I'm going to see what I can do, but probably not a lot."

He reached through the bars and grabbed a handful of Seifer's singlet, pulling him closer. "And plus, locked up together. Maybe he won't turn you down again." The little blond smirked, and in no time the expression was mirrored on the older man's face. "Now, you behave yourself until dinner. I have to go finish talking to Grandpa, and the rest of the elites, which means I'll be back to see you shortly."

"You already know what I want."

"Yea, a cell to yourself. We'll discuss the particulars. Now, go write in your ickle journal about your pent up rage at the idea of sharing a cell."

"Don't say that word, Ink. And it's _not_ a journal. It's a budding biography."

"Uh-huh. Sure. I'm going now." He released the front of Seifer's top and turned away, heading down the hall and across to Grandpa's cell. You'd never see _that_ man sharing a cell.

Irvine had inconspicuously been observing the two. Now that he was beginning to understand their place in the prison hierarchy, he could start to make a place for himself. "You and him…?"

"Regularly."

"Wouldn't have thought you'd be the type to fuck guards." Irvine snorted and lay back.

"Don't fuck guards. I fuck Ink. Another of the reason's he's well liked."

"He's a whore," was the fish's biting comment.

Seifer just chuckled. "A bit. Twisted little fucker too, for someone in law." (1)

"Hey," Irvine said suddenly about fifteen minutes later. "Why's he out of his cell if he's livin' like us and all that garbage?"

"Doing his rounds. One during morning lock up, one during afternoon. They're stupid. He talks enough to people while the cells are open. But they like him coming around. Breaks up the routine. Never sure where he's gonna go after he sees the "Elites" as he's dubbed us."

"This is a fucking strange prison."

"It has its moments. But rather be in here than somewhere else. Not a lot of places have a guard that knows what it's like, even to get shit from the guards like the rest of us."

"S'pose you got a point."

"Damn straight. I'm always right so you better fucking listen to what I got to say."

"Cocky as all fuck too. Shut the hell up."

"You're asking for trouble."

Irvine leaned over the small rail of the top bunk. "Maybe I _like_ trouble."

- - - - - - -

1. I shall have you all know that at the time of writing this chapter, I, Eoko, am not only a student in the Criminology and Criminal Justice Program, but am also currently seated in the university computer lab passing the time between classes. Therefore, I am also a twisted person in law. XD


	3. Threats

_**For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge.**_

_ A Kitty and Eoko Fanfiction._

Warnings: Swearing – they are in prison afterall. Horny boys. Horny boys kissing. Horny boys getting busy. Etc etc.

Pairings: OC/OC. XD

Disclaimer: Eoko and I do not own the FF8 characters, however we do own everyone else. So there. :P We also own the plotline. We do not make any money off this fic, but only write for our enjoyment and the enjoyment of all the hentai fans out there. XD

Author's Notes:

Kitty: Eoko, I thought I told you to note the date, and a fortnight from it. The update is late. DX

Eoko: I blame work, and school, and WoW, and RP and.. more RP.

Kitty: Yay for RP! -squee- RP is win.

Eoko: It is. But not when your characters are being stupid.

Kitty: Who's characters are being stupid?

Eoko: My Saix incarnate is being stupid. But I'm ignoring him right now.

Kitty: Oh, okay. As you do. Speaking of characters... There is a character in this fic who was originally a built, macho seme who molested Irvine in the corridor in another fic of mine, and is now a complete uke thanks to someone who shall not be named, EOKO.

Eoko: His name is also a fun topic of debate.

Kitty: Yes. It is a good demonstration of why you should not pick a name for a char from credits on a movie. I am very phoenetic with my names, so I spell them exactly like I want people to say them. But I guess it's stupid of me to think everyone else does too.

Eoko: Especially when people who have no connection to a certain race of people pick the name to begin with. It's like how people say jalapeÃ±o when they don't know it's suppose to be hala-peeneeyo.

Kitty: I know how to say that word. But I just thought "Javier" sounded cool... since I pronounced it "Jay-vee-ah." When Irvine called him "Jay" later on, Eoko was like "I'm sorreh, whut?"

Eoko: I was confused cause I have Spanish connections, and know the name as the Spanish Hav-ee-air. Which is why I suppose we are telling you now to fly in the face of Spanish culture and sound it out like and Aussie in grade school. 3

Kitty: Actually, we're not allowed to tell them to sound it out anymore. We have to try other strategies, so there.

Eoko: Kitty. They are at least twelve years old. They ain't gonna try something new now.

Kitty: -jumps on Eoko- Shh. They're older than that. They're all legal, okay?!

Eoko: I was reading NC-17s when I was 12 and I expect some of them are 12-14 as well.

Kitty: THEY'RE LEGAL! -covers ears- Lalala!

Eoko: Okay. For you they're legal, and for me I don't care. Huzzah.

_Chapter 3. - Threats._

"I've never seen a fish behave quite that badly," Joseph commented, seated on a chair with his side to the bars while Zell sat cross-legged outside.

"Neither've I, Grandpa," Zell replied, drumming his fingers on his knee.

"They usually do their best to stay on _everyone's_ good side until they figure who they should and shouldn't be palling up with. He honestly pulled all Jade's shit off the top and threw it down the bottom?"

"Yeah. Little shit was probably lucky I was there to at least straighten everything out before Jade saw it. If he'd walked in on his stuff in one big fucking pile in the middle of the bottom bed, I don't think he'd've wasted time bitching about it."

"No, I don't suppose he would have. But what do you suppose Caraway's thinking?"

"I'd hazard a guess our illustrious warden _wasn't_ thinking. Probably too busy clearing up another one of Angel's fuck-ups and just put Paris in whatever free slot was apparent."

Joseph chuckled, running a hand through his mostly-grey hair.

"And in the process probably made Paris into a 'free slot' within Jade's reach."

"If he's got any sense, he'll jump at the chance to bend over for Jade…"

"Like you do?" Joseph wondered slyly with an arched brow.

Zell shrugged.

"What can I say? He's pretty good to me, but if Paris isn't careful he'll find out just how vicious Jade can be."

Joseph made a thoughtful sound in the back of his throat.

"I'd almost be willing to bend my preferences for this one. He's pretty enough to be a girl."

Zell laughed and shook his head, getting to his feet.

"I don't think you ought to say that to _him_. If there's nothing else…?"

"No, no. Go. And I'd suggest you leave Prof and Blaze alone for the moment. They're _arguing_ again."

"Right," Zell said with a roll of his eyes and a grin. Every so often, Illo and Raphael, or Blaze, would forgo other fuck-toys in favour of each other. It was easy for everyone else to tell when this was going to occur, because they would argue all day over the smallest things whenever they saw each other. These arguments were just a veil for the real argument, which was who would get to be on top this time. No one had yet cracked the code of how they ended up deciding, because the argument-loss rate for the day didn't always correlate with whomever was doing the screaming from their cell after lights-out.

Zell bypassed their cell -

"…hate it when you leave your books by the fucking loo!"

"Well, they're there so if you get the urge to set them on fire, I can put them out again!"

"Oh, fuck off, Prof! I don't just light _anything_ on fire!"

- with a shake of his head and went to visit the Boss.

- - - - - - -

"Maybe I _like_ trouble."

Seifer looked up from where he lay on his 'new and improved' bottom bunk as Irvine leaned over, ponytail hanging down. With the red mark from the slap Seifer had given him earlier and the split lip, he certainly _looked_ like the kind of guy who liked more trouble than he could handle.

"Yeah, well, you must if you tried to sneak a knife past Captain Hardarse…"

"Try? What try? I _did_ sneak a knife past Captain Hardarse."

"Yeah…" Seifer sat up, careful not to hit his head, so his eyes were mostly level with Irvine's. "How _did_ you do that…?"

"Me to know, you to find out, Blondie."

"Jade."

"Or maybe Seifer?"

"Don't even go there."

Irvine smirked and swung back up onto his bunk, because the blood was running to his head and that just wasn't comfortable. As anticipated, Seifer was there in bare moments, arms folded over the edge of the low rail and feet planted on his own mattress to keep him from falling.

"You really do like to push your luck, don't you?"

"Naw, just figure since Ink ain't too far away, he'd come 'n' stop you before you actually, like, killed me."

"He'd let me beat you to within an inch of your life first."

"What makes you think I wouldn't even put up a fight?"

Seifer looked him over, then snorted.

"I don't care how fast you are, there's no room to move in here and it wouldn't be long before I pinned you down and beat you stupid."

"I ain't fuckin' defenceless, you know! I'm an assassin, for fuck's sake!"

"Assassin?" Seifer repeated, blinking in surprise.

"Yeah, assassin, hit-man, whatever. I'm it. Or I were 'til – what'd you call him? Detective Ice-Cock…?"

"Yeah," Seifer chuckled.

" 'Til he come along. I still got no fuckin' idea how he tracked me down. I been coverin' my tracks for damn near seven years, and ain't never had a sniff of suspicion, then up rocks Detective fucking Ice-Cock and pounds down my hotel door! Right in the middle of the best sex I've, like, ever had, if you please! Sexiest twin women I ever did see…"

Seifer made a face at the visual.

"I don't need all the damn details…"

"Well, isn't this cozy…?"

They both turned to see Zell at the bars, a smirk curving his lips and his arms through the bars, resting on a flat horizontal re-enforcing one.

"Oh, yeah. We're sharin' life stories and swappin' girl-scout cookies…" Irvine muttered.

"I see someone still needs an attitude adjustment."

Irvine just rolled onto his side, facing the wall and Seifer threw a glare at Zell.

"What? I told you I'd be back to discuss details, or anything else you wanted to talk about, did I not? Did you write in your journal like I told you to?"

Seifer growled and hopped off the bunks, Irvine snickering behind him.

"No, I didn't. And you can't tell me what to do, either."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Zell murmured, eyes sliding past Seifer to Irvine. He licked his lips, then blinked when Seifer suddenly came to the bars, blocking his field of vision.

"He's mine first," the taller blond growled.

Zell arched a brow, tattoo shifting.

"What, you're gonna force him now? What if he doesn't want you?"

"Oh, he'll want me."

"Cocky bastard."

"Damn right. If he's going to share my cell, he's going to pay for the privilege, and it won't take me long to make him realise that."

"Oh, no?"

"No."

"Well, good luck Helen. Paris's fast asleep."

"You're pushing it tonight, Ink," Seifer growled, but the other man was right. Irvine was fast asleep.

"I could take care've you in the meantime…" Zell murmured, a hand coming between the bars against the front of Seifer's pants.

"Whore…" Seifer grunted, but he was smiling.

"You know it. What d'you say?"

After a moment's contemplation, Seifer shook his head.

"No. Not tonight. I'm not in the mood…"

"You…? Not in the _mood_…? Is that even _scientifically possible_?!"

"Oh, piss off, Ink."

Zell grinned and leaned up on tiptoes, fisting a hand in Seifer's shirt and pulling him close so he could kiss him through the bars. The taller blonde instantly plunged his tongue into the shorter's mouth, kissing him for all he was worth. He broke away in a moment, however, and walked back to his bed, perching on the edge.

"See you tomorrow, Ink."

"Yeah, tomorrow. Don't do anyone I wouldn't do."

Seifer snorted as Zell disappeared, then lay down to get some sleep himself. Not long after, the lights were turned out and Raphael and Illo made it evident they'd finally decided who was topping tonight.

It was a shame neither of them would come to the party as far as Jade went. It seemed they'd only forgo their predominantly dominant natures for each other, and no one else. They really were both very sexy…

Seifer muttered to himself, then buried his head under the pillow and put himself to sleep telling stories in his head about what he was going to do to Irvine when he made the little fish realise how bad he wanted Seifer.

- - - - - - -

Seifer woke the next morning to Irvine standing by the bars, brushing out his glorious hair. He propped himself up on an elbow to watch, and realised the self-proclaimed assassin gained some sort of almost ritualistic calm from the activity.

When he had it completely smooth and straight, he drew it back into the familiar pony tail, but then went one step further, fingers flashing expertly in and out as he plaited the long waves. Seifer licked his lips at the thought of those dextrous fingers at entirely different activities.

"I can almost _hear_ you leerin'," Irvine said without even having to look. He tied off the end of his plait, then flicked it back over his shoulder and turned to face Seifer.

"I don't leer," Seifer muttered, though he was well aware that was probably the best word to describe what he had been doing.

Irvine just laughed.

"Fuck, I'm hungry…"

"Nearly breakfast time," Seifer said, standing and stretching right up onto his toes. Then he dropped to the floor and began to do some push-ups.

A guard came past, rapping their bars twice.

"Kinneas, you've got a session with Councillor Trepe today. Any bad behaviour _will_ be punished with solitary. Same goes for you, Almasy. You've got your three-month check up with the Doctors." The guard smirked. "Gotta make sure you haven't been sticking your dick in anything… _diseased_…"

Seifer just ignored him and continued with his push-ups, but Irvine put a hand on a hip and arched a brow. He made sure the guard was watching, then ran his eyes unsubtly down the man's body, licking his lips.

"Baby…" he purred. "You can stick your dick in me any day…"

The guard's eyes widened and Seifer paused to watch the exchange, highly amused. Irvine smirked, pressing himself up against the bars, and stroked his hand slowly up and down one of them.

"C'mon in here, won't you…? Promise I won't, like, show you a bad time…"

The man turned and virtually sprinted away. Seifer burst into fits of laughter and Irvine grinned, backing away from the bars.

"Guess I need to work on my pickup lines… I thought that were a pretty good come-on…"

"If it makes you feel any better, I would have jumped you."

"Darlin', you wanted to jump me without me havin' to say anythin'. It don't make me feel any better," Irvine replied, but he gave a little wink, then slipped out of the cell as the bars began to slide open, literally following his nose to where breakfast was.

Zell came up alongside him as he walked.

"Hey, Paris. Sleep well?"

"Like a log. And my name ain't Paris."

"It is now." Zell smirked as they joined the breakfast line.

"I hate it here…" Irvine decided morosely, gathering up a tray and glaring at the meal that was placed on it, as though it were to blame.

"Oh, it grows on you."

"I can't believe you're in here by _choice_…"

Zell chuckled, then glanced over as Seifer entered, and the steady line of inmates all moved for him so he could jump the queue and stand with Zell and Irvine.

"You know, you should get out of my way, Paris," Seifer said over Zell's head as he took his meal.

Irvine just snorted and looked away, groaned at the sight of the thick coffee he got next, then went to find a table.

"Smooth, Casanova."

"Fuck up, Ink. _You_ should get out of my way as well."

"Ha. As if."

Zell collected the rest of his breakfast, then went to sit with Irvine, ignoring the 'piss off' glare the assassin gave him. Moments later, Seifer joined them, then Illo, and one by one, four men Irvine didn't know. One stuck out his hand.

"Name's Skid. Well, used to be Javier… but…" He shrugged and grinned. He had black hair to his shoulders, a vivid electric-blue streak behind his right ear, and his demeanour and build screamed bitch. So did the way he was glued to Zell's side.

Irvine looked down his nose at the hand, but at a nudge from Zell, he reached across and shook it.

Another man, this one sitting beside Illo, also offered a hand. He was well-built and had a laconic sort of smile that only seemed to be half there. His hair was shortish and tousled, curling over his ears and was almost fire-engine red. Zell almost kicked Irvine this time and he took the hand.

"Blaze," the man told him shortly. Irvine wondered if that was because of his hair.

"Raphael…" Illo said with a curling smile.

"Fuck off, Prof…"

"That's not what you said last night."

Raphael hit him upside the head, but Illo only laughed.

It suddenly dawned on Irvine, by the looks of the other inmates in the room and the wide berth they gave the table, that he was sitting with the kingpins. Or rather, the kingpins had sat with _him_. Except for Javier, who was apparently just cute enough to have wormed his way into the inner-circle. _Wait_… Irvine thought. _Me too._

"This is Grandpa and the Boss," Seifer said respectfully. "Boss, Grandpa this is Paris."

Irvine was smart enough to nod politely and the two older men acknowledged him with a slight inclination of their heads as well. He was also smart enough to keep his mouth shut when they started discussing the goings-on of the prison.

"Paris's got Miss. Lens today, boys," Seifer said towards the end of their meal.

"Yeah, and I hear you got the Doc and Angel-cakes," Raphael put in, smirking.

"Yeah, don't remind me, Blaze…" Seifer muttered, running his hand through his hair. "Angel poking and prodding my privates is just the _highlight_ of my day…"

Illo put his hand out in a cupping motion and affected a high, annoying girly voice.

"Please, Mr. Almasy, would you cough, sir? I'm sorry, I was only paying attention to your big, strong dick. Could you do it again?"

The table erupted in gales of laughter and even Seifer chuckled, rolling his eyes.

"Anyway, I'm sure Paris' day will be far more interesting than mine. I remember _my_ first session with Miss. Lens. I thought she'd never fucking shut up!"

"She doesn't. _Ever_…" Joseph put in.

Another round of snickers went around the table.

"Just wait 'til she gets started on your childhood, Paris," Illo said, grinning. "That one goes on for _hours_."

"Yay. Rehabilitation…" Irvine said sarcastically and they all laughed.

_Is it even possible to rehabilitate an assassin…?_ Seifer wondered to himself, gaze slipping yet again to the new inmate.

Truthfully, he found the image of Irvine silently, coldly striking out of the shadows an amazing turn-on.

- - - - - - -


	4. Carrying a Dangerous Weapon

_**For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge.**_

_ A Kitty and Eoko Fanfiction._

Warnings: Swearing blah blah.

Disclaimer: Eoko and I do not own the FF8 characters, nor do we make any money off this fic. I wish we did, because then I wouldn't have to work.

Author's Notes:

Kitty: Waa! We are late with updatings again.

Eoko: It's our new thing?

Kitty: Yeah, it's totally in.

Eoko: Totally! It's like arriving slightly late to a party.

Kitty: Oh, yeah! Fashionably late.

Eoko: Eeeexactly.

Kitty: I'M GETTING A PET SNAKE!

Eoko: She is, and the Canadian found all the legal and permit info for the Aussie.

Kitty: Yes. So if ever you get into trouble, Call up Eoko to defend you. You cannot lose!

Eoko: I love how everyone says that when I'm going to prosecute criminals, not defend people.

Kitty: But you would defend a friend, right? XD Honestly, I keep forgetting, because mah sister wanted to be a defence lawyer for a while.

Eoko: I could reccomend a good defense lawyer and give legal advice I suppose.

Kitty: You would defend me, though, ne?

Eoko: If I legally could, and it would be wise and I wouldn't get you convicted sue to lack of defending knowledge.

Kitty: XD I'm sure wouldn't get me convicted. But now, let's let them all go read about other convicted criminals.

_Chapter 3. - Carrying a Dangerous Weapon._

Irvine's session was scheduled for right after he'd had lunch. He was to report to his cell by one where a guard would meet him and escort him up to Miss Quistis Trepe's office.

The woman was not there when they arrived so Irvine and the guard waited in front of the desk. The room had uniform white walls, a brown leather lounge, a few armchairs of the same material, and the standard desk and swivel chair.

Quistis entered the room several minutes before the meeting was to start. Thin-rimmed oval glasses sat perfectly across the bridge of her nose, framing sharp blue eyes. Her blonde hair was pulled back tight, and into a French twist and in her arms she carried several folders and the customary clipboard.

She strode around to the other side of the desk, putting the folders down and shifted them into a perfect stack. Then she sat down, adjusted the fitted jacket of her suit and folded her arms over the top of her desk, regarding the two men.

"Good afternoon," she said, offering a warm, yet professional smile. "Mr. Kinneas, I presume."

Irvine said nothing. The guard next to him regurgitated what seemed to be a standard string of phrases before taking his leave. Apparently two more officers were stationed just outside the door should Miss Trepe be assaulted in any number of ways. Irvine was also fairly certain that any one willing to be alone in a room with convicts was quite capable of fending for themselves until back up arrived.

Quistis got to her feet and motioned with one hand at the furniture as the other swept up her clipboard. "Feel free to use any one of the pieces. Lay down, sit down, stand if you feel like it, but I'd definitely discourage the last option."

The auburn haired man simply strode over to one of the chairs and collapsed into it in a very bored fashion. He looked over at the quack-with-a-rack taking her seat and sweeping a hand beneath her long skirt in order to smooth the wrinkles out.

Her suit was a surprising color; a salmon red that not everyone could pull off. When standing the skirt ended just below her knees. The jacket tapered down to her waist, then flared slightly in a style that accentuated the shapely curvatures of her female form. The deep v-neck would have given a clear view of her ample bosom had she not been wearing a stylishly-plain baby-blue turtleneck underneath.

Irvine was at least glad she was an attractive woman, and not some old and decrepit hunchbacked crone. Though, considering how the other men talked about her, it seemed her looks were not enough to make up for some of her less flattering qualities.

"Let me introduce myself. My name is Dr. Quistis Trepe and I am this prison's chief of psychology. I mostly handle everything myself, so we should see enough of each other. It all depends on you, Mr. Kinneas."

He cocked a brow at her, hoping she wasn't going to start off on a background story about why she chose psychology, and this prison, and what her goals were and what those goals would accomplish.

"Now, you only arrived yesterday. How are you finding things?" she crossed one leg elegantly over her knee, resting her clipboard on her thigh and plucking a pen from where it rested behind her ear.

Irvine snorted and looked out the metal diamond-mesh covered windows. "How do you think I'm findin' thin's? I'm sure you've had yourself enough people through here to know how it all is."

Miss Trepe simply sat quietly, eyes soft and focused on him, pen in poised hand over her papers.

"It's hell! Two days ago everythin' was fine. It was turnin' out to be, like, the best day of my life. Then before ya know it- bam!- in comes Detective Ice-Cock and there goes the rest of my life."

Quistis made a note on the paper. "I will assume you are referring to Detective Leonhart, as that does seem to be what he's called in here. I will ask you to try to use his correct name, please. Now, continue. How is the prison so far? Have you had any uncomfortable confrontations?"

"Prison is_ hell_. I hate it! But that is the point. This is my punishment. Pft. And yes, I've had several "uncomfortable confrontations"." He curled up his nose and tossed his head to the side slightly.

"I get assaulted before I even get two feet through the second gates. Not, like, five minutes later I got some son of a bitch's tongue down my throat. _Then_ I'm rounded up cause some dumbarse upstairs is too shit-faced to show me where my cell is _first_. Then this little tattooed cocksucker gets up in my face and I gotta tell him to fuck off."

Irvine gave a long suffering sigh and pulled his braid over his shoulder to stroke. "I can't take two steps anywhere without gettin' some kinda attention. Fuckin' horny arseholes. I know how fuckin' hot I am, dammit! And I know what the hell goes down in prison- fuck. I can deal with em, ya know? I ain't no pansy arse bitch. But Mr. Your-Mouth-Is-Mine is fuckin' stalkin' me. Then I get assaulted _again_ cause I insulted his little guard bitch, and to just add the _fuckin'_ cherry and sprinkles to the damned cake, he's my _cell mate_."

"You seem agitated."

Irvine eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets. "Agitated? _Agitated_? You gotta be fuckin' kiddin' me! My cell mate- no! Half this prison, at _least,_ wants to molest and or rape me. And to make that even _better_ my cell mate happens to be one of the top-_fuckin'­-_ dogs in here!" He tugged on his braid angrily.

"And at breakfast the rest of the crew sat down at my table! Like, _fuck_. I get in here one day- not even _twenty-four __**fuckin'**_ hours and I got every prison prince, duke, lord, and jester on my tail!" He slouched down in his chair and made a very displeased sound.

"Mr. Kinneas, I can see that you're having a great many difficulties already. How are you dealing with these advances, and other encounters?"

A little smirk tugged at the hitman's lips. "Oh, lovely. I got thin's handled alright. No one gets too close, and if they do, a few words is all I need." He lifted his hands in a motion that was meant to say 'now don't worry 'bout that'. "I ain't gonna do some fool thin' to get me into more trouble in here. Just a few _harmless_ threats with a colourful edge and them fellahs be movin' on."

"Do you feel like you may act on any of these threats, Mr. Kinneas?"

"Not unless I ain't given any other choice. Seems if the big boys are takin' a likin' to me I might end up in a safe little niche. And I got the tattooed wonder guard a couple cells down. I'm sure he'd jump in before anyone was fatally injured."

"You are referring to… Mr. Dincht then?"

"If Mr. Dincht is a short arse midget with blond hair and black lightnin' slappin' the left side of his face, then yea. What the fuck is wrong with that kid? Tell me he's got mental problems! How can he, like, voluntarily put himself in prison?? It's insane!"

Quistis made a little noise in the back of her throat. "Although I do have some of my own theories regarding Mr. Dincht, I am not at liberty to discuss them with other inmates, as I'm sure you are aware."

"He's addicted to sex, ain't he?"

"I am not at liberty to say," she repeated.

"Ah, whatever. Like I give a damn about the little fuck. Only thin' I got to worry about involvin' him is gonna be blockin' out his screamin'. Shit…. why, why, whywhywhywhwy!"

"Mr. Kinneas," Miss Trepe interrupted, voice smoothly cutting through his questioning mantra. "I believe the best thing you can do at this time is try to relax and fit in. I am also well aware what goes on down in the cell blocks, and I must say your looks will be trouble. If it wasn't hideously bad for my self esteem, I might even admit you are prettier than me, which only makes things worse for you. If the leaders of the prison population are indeed taking an interest in you, you might be wise to take them up on that offer."

She smiled and got to her feet, making a subtle motion that led to Irvine following her lead. "Mr. Kinneas," she said, stretching out one hand to take his, "I do not spout garbage to my patients for a pay check. I do actually want to help you. And right now all I can really do is tell you to stay out of trouble, and take the opportunities you can get because you won't be getting a lot in here."

Irvine shook her hand, slightly surprised at the strong hold and firm, single shake. For a woman- for a quack woman, she wasn't _all_ that bad. Then again, they hadn't even begun to discuss his crimes, career, life, childhood, and whatever else she was going to dig up. Hell, he had a long time to spend in here. He was sure she'd find out plenty.

Quistis returned to her desk, sitting own and pressing a large, orange button on the phone. "Mr. Kinneas and I are done, you may escort him out now."

Moments later one of the guards from outside the room came in and smiled at the woman behind the desk. "No troubles I see. Wonderful. Let's get you back now, Kinneas."

"Oh, please. I simply cannot wait," Irvine said, voice a robotic monotone for empahsis, walking over to the guard and rolling his eyes.

- - - - - - -

Seifer shuddered as Dr. Heartilly left the room so he could put his clothes back on. The girl could be a good doctor, but he doubted very much she'd ever make it in a prison. A whole lot of the inmates held very… unconventional views of her, and the rest joined in the teasing just for the reactions it got.

She would blush at nearly everything they threw at her, and as they laid it on thicker she just became more flustered. Seifer would have to remind himself not to surprise her when her hands were so near his more vital anatomy. Especially when her reaction was to tighten up say… her grip- ouch.

Drs. Heartilly and Kadowaki came back into the room and finished with the last of the medical details before an officer came in to escort Almasy back to the cell block. It was annoying, he noted, to have to go and see the doctors, but he was also glad the prison administration took notice of his status within their walls. It wasn't like every Joe and John in here were getting regular check ups.

He smirked to himself, striding down the hall towards his cell to drop off his jacket. When he got there he found Zell on his bunk, sprawled on his side and propped up on one elbow as he read a book.

"Ink," Seifer said, voice dropping to a tone reserved for children and the feeble minded, "When the cells are open, you go outside; when the cells are closed, you waste your time reading books."

The tattooed man looked up, closing the book and setting it on the floor. "I was out, but I figured your check up would be done around now and I thought I'd wait around in case you needed any…" he trailed off, eyes sliding down from deep green irises to below the blond's belt and back up again. "… help forgetting who last had their hands on you."

Seifer rolled his eyes, hooking his jacket over one of the back corners of the cell's chair. "Aren't you just full of self sacrifice?" he commented wryly.

"Well," Zell purred, shifted his weight on the bunk. "It wouldn't be _complete_ self sacrifice."

"Off my bunk," the taller of the two said, coming over only long enough to grab Zell by the back of his singlet and haul him up and off the mattress. "I ain't wasting open-cell time getting a blow job when you're completely capable of doing that much later in the evening."

Zell followed Seifer out of the cell and down the hall. "That mean I get to suck that big, strong cock of yours tonight?" he asked, voice dropping a bit and arms snaking around one of the older man's.

"I haven't decided yet," he stated, rolling his shoulder and slipping his arm out of Zell's grasp, causing he shorter man to pout rather childishly. "You're pretty fucking eager, Ink. Maybe you should go _release_ some of this tension with your boy."

The tattooed blond sighed audibly. "He's in that alcohol awareness and responsibilities program session now."

"So I'm second pick? Hoping to get a little action outta me since your little bitch is busy?" Although he hadn't meant it, his voice did have a touch of bite to it, not that speaking with any level of bite had even made Zell cringe or back down.

"You know it ain't like that, Jade!" the little blond said hurriedly. "You know you're always first pick in my books. You know that. 'Sides, you haven't been quite so eager to do nothing with me since Paris showed up."

"Ooo, yea. Since _yesterday_. Sorry I haven't thrown you down or against a wall in the last twenty-four hours."

Zell made a face and half glared at the taller man. "Wouldn't be so bad if I didn't know you were eager to jump _him_ instead." He sighed and lifted his head to look up at the sky as they passed through the double doors into the yard.

"Please, Ink. It has been almost two years with you. Maybe I'm getting bored." He smirked at the drop of the chin and look of utmost displeasure _that_ comment caused. "You know I'm fucking with you, Ink."

"You are such a fucking prick. Yea, I know. Oh-" he paused, looking over to the left. "Hn, you just remember, if you can't get a piece of Paris' sweet arse by the end of the week, you get ridda that built up tension, kay? I'm getting hailed by the Biker Boys so I'll catch up with you later."

Seifer opened his mouth to say something, though he wasn't exactly sure what given the amount of things he could have replied to, but shut it as the younger blond left. He scoffed and shook his head. He'd never get used to Zell, because Zell never played by all the rules. On one hand, he was very, very much like Seifer's bitch, on the other hand he had one of his own. He would follow some of the orders he was given, but more often than not he'd just snort or laugh, and he _never_ asked to leave before doing so.

His mental ramblings came to the same conclusion they always did; he wasn't a normal prisoner, and he was never going to be, nor have to be. And besides, being associated and near someone as emotionally positive as Zell did wonders for the body and mind.

"Hello," Seifer said, coming up behind and to the right of his favourite new inmate to hate, voice soft and deep. "How was your meeting with Miss Lens?"

Irvine spun around and glared at his lovely blond stalker. "Lovely," he said, turned to the side and watching a particularly odd series of hand gestures by one Zell Dincht on the other side of the yard. "She says I'm "agitated"."

"No shit!" Seifer said, and laughed. "That's almost as bad as her telling me, "You don't like it here.""

The auburn hared man turned to give him an odd look. "What kind of an observation is _that_?" he asked, starting to wonder where the woman obtained any sort of certificate with which to practice.

"Actually, they're both fairly good if you think about it. Got you carrying on for a good long while I bet? Guess what, you say things you might not normally say when you're frustrated, mad and/or bewildered. She shocks the first rant out of everyone with something lame."

Irvine eyes narrowed as he thought back on his session with the blonde woman. "Hm…" He had gone off when she'd said that. It had been such an understatement. He'd felt the need to clarify the injustice of his experiences thus far.

"Might want to keep that in mind from now on, Paris-"

"My name ain't fuckin' _Paris_!"

Seifer's hand shot out and grabbed the hitman by the chin, turning his face to look him in the eyes. "Listen up, pretty boy. You're in here, and you're in here for a long time. Be a little more _appreciative_ that you've been given such a charming name on your first day, and by the big boys no less. That name came from Prof, who reports directly to Boss. And guess what? We all know you as 'Paris', and you'd _much_ rather be known."

The knife was out again, the side of the blade flat against his index finger, the others curling around the handle. The other side of the knife was pressed to Seifer's stomach, the chill of the metal seeping past the singlet material and into his skin.

"Paris…" a voice came from the right.

Irvine looked up and Seifer drew away, releasing the other man's chin from between his fingers. Sky blue eyes narrowed and they glared into shining sapphires. The knife was instantly hidden again, so quickly Seifer hadn't caught the movement taken to hide it.

"How did you get that _in_ here?" Zell asked, eyes flickering between the assassin's face and the place he'd seen the knife get hidden away. "That wasn't a shank. That was a fucking knife."

"I'm talented," Irvine said with a snarl in his voice. "You gonna confiscate it now, like a good little guard?"

Zell cocked a brow at him. "Uh… no, duh." He gave Seifer a funny look then returned his gaze to the hitman. "Only way I'm taking it is if you do something serious, or I have good reason to believe you _will_ do something serious. And besides…" he paused, glancing as Seifer again before reaching one hand behind Irvine's neck, pulling him in close while the other held the knife where it was hidden.

He leaned up to whisper into the taller man's ear on the opposite side Seifer was standing- and now glaring. "Listen, you're beautiful. That knife is your protection. But if you do something _stupid_ I _can't_ help you. And there are better ways of getting protection in here." With that said he released the now glaring assassin and let him storm off.

"Way to go, Ink. I'm never going to fuck his sweet arse at _this_ rate."

"So sorry for wanting to make sure you didn't get a knife wound somewhere vital, or… inconvenient," he said with a smirk. "Come on. 'Noon lock up's just around the corner."

"I hate you, Ink."

"I know, Jade. I know."


	5. Indecent Proposition

_**For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge.**_

_A Kitty and Eoko Fanfiction._

Warnings: Swearing! (In case you hadn't noticed that by now.) And boy/boy relations (In case you hadn't worked that out by now.)

Disclaimer: Eoko and I do not own the FF8 characters. TT Such a sad, sad thing. We don't even make any money off of this. Woe.

Author's Notes:

_Kitty: Hey Eoko_

Eoko: Hi Kitty

_Kitty: Guess What_

Eoko: Um, you put the wrong chapter on the last chapter you uploaded?

_Kitty: DX Hey, I wasn't going to point that out. No, that's not it!_

Eoko: Then I dunno. XD

_Kitty: -grab- It's footy season again!_

Eoko: Oh gawd. Ph34r 7h3 K177y.

_Kitty: And! And! And! We won our first match. And! And! And! We're going to see the footy next weekend! -dances about-_

Eoko: YAY TIGERS.

_Kitty: Also, I love this chapter_ .

Eoko: What's the title?

_Kitty: I haven't named it yet... -falls over-_

Eoko: GGs

_Kitty: Shut up. I do things in order. AN's come before the part that says the chapter name._

_Kitty: Shut up. I do things in order. AN's come before the part that says the chapter name._

Eoko: Okay, okay. Soooorry.

_Kitty: I forgive you. Everyone have a happy Easter, and enjoy the chapter_

_Chapter 5 – Indecent Proposition._

Zell decided he ought to go have a word to Joseph and Derek, but promised to come back as soon as possible to proposition Seifer again. The inmate waved him off, then paused just inside his cell door as it slid noisily into place behind him. Irvine lay on his back on the top bunk, one leg bent at the knee, the other stretched out. One arm hung over the edge of the bed, the other was flung over his eyes and the end of his long braid also slipped off the edge.

He really was stunning. It was surprising he'd ended up an assassin and not an extravagantly paid male model. It begged the question of his history and how he'd ended up the way he had. Then again, Seifer mused, it was possible he just really enjoyed killing. The blond had seen that before.

"You don't fuckin' learn, do you, Blondie?" Irvine said smoothly without moving his arm.

"I can't help it if you're made to be fucked. By me."

Irvine gave a chuckle.

"Funny you should mention that. You know you ain't the only one offerin'."

"I bet. But unlike you, Paris, they know how things work and they know they better fucking well not touch what I want."

"Shit. Next damn thing you know you'll be pissin' on me to mark your fuckin' territory, just like the big dumb mutt you are."

Before Irvine even had time to yelp, Seifer had grabbed the neck of his singlet and dragged him off the top bunk. He pushed the assassin to the floor, ramming his shoulders against the lower bunk's edge and crouching threateningly over him, hand still fisted in his clothing.

"If you're not careful-"

"Listen, darlin', yer threats are gettin' really fuckin' borin'. I-"

Seifer's admittedly short temper finally snapped and he jerked Irvine higher by his singlet, then unceremoniously punched him. The hitman didn't make a sound and when Seifer drew back he only lifted his now bleeding nose and looked down the length of it at the blond as though looking at something smelly stuck to his boot. Seifer snarled and struck again, swearing violently when another hand intercepted his. He fought it, but he knew who's fingers were wrapped around his fist and he knew he wouldn't break the hold.

"Seifer!" Zell's voice growled shortly, close by his ear.

"Fuck off, Ink! He's got it coming to him!"

"Got you on a tight leash, don't he?" Irvine murmured silkily.

Seifer tried again to break Zell's hold and when that had no effect, he resorted to shaking Irvine by his singlet.

"Don't you know when to shut up?!" Zell exclaimed at Irvine.

"I ain't afraid of him!" the hitman screamed back. "I ain't afraid of nothin'!"

Zell finally dragged Seifer off when it became clear he wasn't going to let go by choice. When Zell released him, he lunged at Irvine again and the guard jumped in his way and pushed him back.

"Stop it, Jade. Jade! Back off! _Seifer_!"

Irvine stood, wiping blood from his nose.

"No, _you_ back off, Ink! Don't fucking tell me what I can and can't do in my own damn cell. This pissant motherfucking little fish needs to know his place and just 'cause he's got a damn fuckable body doesn't mean he can walk around like he's king dick and treat the rest of us like dirt! You know how it works in here! You _know_!"

"Of course I know! But he doesn't _care_! You could beat the shit out of him and he still wouldn't care! Can't you see it?!"

"He'll care when I break every bone in his trigger-finger."

"Just fuckin' try it, arsewipe!" Irvine growled from where he now sat on his bunk, stemming the flow of blood from his nose with a pillowcase – _Seifer's_ pillowcase which he'd taken while the two blonds fought over him. A bit of a turn-on really, being fought over.

"I'll do more than _try_ it! And when I'm done, I'll pin you down and fuck you raw and you'll scream until you _like_ it!"

"Oh, yeah, baby. That really turns me on…" Irvine said in a flat, sarcastic voice. He smirked as Seifer tried to get at him again. The man was priceless entertainment, really. He was so used to inmates bowing and scraping, so it was simple to push his buttons and the heat in his jade eyes sent shivers through Irvine's core.

Zell dearly wished he could take one or the other out of the situation, but his contract stated he was to follow the rules, and at the moment the rules dictated inmates had to be in their cells.

"Paris, shut the fuck up!" he yelled desperately. Blessedly, the assassin fell silent, grumbling wordlessly to himself.

"Calm down, Jade. C'mon," Zell said lowly, gripping Seifer's singlet. "Didn't I say you were gonna have to release some of that tension, hmm? This proves it."

Seifer glared at him for a long moment, then suddenly kissed him, hard and violent. Zell turned them, pushing Seifer back towards the bunks. He sat the inmate down, leaning over him with his head bare inches from the bottom of the upper bunk as he let Seifer kiss him.

"Oh, fuck _off_!" came Irvine's voice again. "You ain't gonna… Not with me _right here_!"

They ignored him and Zell's hands deftly undid Seifer's belt, then his pants before one slid inside.

"C'mon… Relax, Jade. You know that arse won't be yours for a _long_ time…" Zell purred against his ear. "Let me help…"

Seifer just grunted, then groaned as Zell stroked gently, and subsided, relaxing back against the wall as the guard slid down to kneel between the inmate's legs.

"I can't _fuckin'_ believe this…" Irvine cried and Zell smirked, tongue flicking out against the tip of Seifer's length. The taller blond hissed, golden lashes falling slightly over jade eyes.

"I'm _bleedin'_ to death, y'know!"

They ignored him and Zell suckled gently on the tip, making Seifer groan and slightly lift his hips. He stroked his fingers through Zell's hair as the guard took him a little way into his mouth, rolled his tongue over the tip, then backed off, licking teasingly. Seifer growled and jerked Zell's head forward by way of fingers buried in his hair.

"Stop teasing and suck it, Ink!"

Zell smirked.

"Or just friggin' _stop_! Piss off!" came Irvine's snarl.

"Sorry, Jade, I didn't catch that… What'd you say…?"

"You heard what I fucking said! First you beg, now you nance around, little fuck! Quit using that mouth of yours to dribble shit and suck my cock, _right_ _now_!"

"Yes," Zell whispered and took Seifer deep and easily out of long practice. The taller blond moaned throatily and his hips bucked, but Zell rode it easily and swallowed around him.

Irvine shifted, eyes falling shut and he bit his lower lip hard. Seifer moaned again and the assassin shivered at the sound.

"Havin' _fun_?!" Irvine hissed.

"Fuck, yes…" Seifer groaned back.

"I need a new cell. Ink, tell your guard buddies I _fuckin' want_ a new cell!"

"I already – _fuck_, Ink! – already… said that… Don't worry…" Seifer muttered, then gave another throaty groan.

"Good for you," Irvine grunted, then to himself; "…Shit…" His pants were getting unbearably tight. He wished they'd hurry and finish.

"Ink, stop… listening to us talk and… and d-damnwell _concentrate_!"

Zell chuckled and ran his hand up Seifer's thigh, tongue lips and teeth now moving with far more purpose. Above him, Seifer growled curses and his fingers worked in Zell's hair. Higher, Irvine twisted on his bunk, trying to relieve the building ache between his legs.

Fuck them.

_Fuck. Them._

And not in the good way, neither.

"Just… like that, Ink… yeah…" Seifer muttered, hips bucking mercilessly into Zell's mouth. The guard let him take what he wanted, a quick, near-violent release, and it wasn't long before the inmate gave another cry and got just that. Zell swallowed every drop gladly, even licking and suckling to make sure he didn't miss anything.

"Feel better?" he asked softly, doing up Seifer's pants and re-buckling his belt.

"Mmm…" he agreed, stroking Zell's hair absently.

The guard stood and leaned over Seifer again, pressing a kiss to his lips.

"Now you play nice, Jade. He wants to piss you off. Don't rise to the bait."

Irvine shifted above them, and they both heard him make a little sound of desperation. A smirk curled Seifer's lips and Zell grinned fangily.

"Poor Paris's got a problem…" Seifer whispered.

Zell chuckled, pressed a kiss to Seifer's brow, and went to the cell door.

"Dincht override one, three, three, seven. Cell number sixty-seven." The cell bleeped at them all and the bars slid open, then closed again the second Zell had stepped outside. "Remember, play nice. And write in your _budding biography_ for Miss. Lens, okay? You know she'll be disappointed if you don't write _every_ day."

"Yeah, yeah. Fuck up…"

Zell laughed.

"Oh, I plan to. Skiddles is waiting for me."

"I pity the kid, if only because you call him 'Skiddles'. His name is Skid."

Zell just winked over his shoulder and sauntered off, looking mightily pleased with himself. Seifer wondered how Javier felt about Zell coming back smelling and tasting of sex with another man, and then using him to release his own frustrated arousal. Then again, he reflected almost instantly, it didn't matter how Javier felt about it. He was a bitch. Zell's bitch. And a bitch's job was to lay down and look pretty. Still, Seifer thought Javier was lucky. Zell liked sex, and liked pleasing other men, so he was a good lover, and he would never hurt Javier. Some wolves (1) would.

"You stink of sex, shit-for-brains…" Irvine remarked from the top bunk, interrupting Seifer's musings.

"And you sound like you wish you did too," the blond replied coolly, far to sated to rise to Irvine's baiting for the moment.

"I don't have any wish for that little turd's mouth on my cock, thanks."

"Oh, you should… he's really quite good. Anyway, could be my mouth."

Irvine snorted, shifting again despite the fact it was having no effect at all.

"As if you'd suck me off without wantin' somethin' in return…"

"Sure, I would."

"…Really…?" Irvine wondered, and even went so far as leaning over the rail to look down at Seifer.

"Yeah. I'd suck you off without wanting something in return. But you'd owe me." And he grinned.

Irvine threw the bloodied pillowcase at him.

"Prick! I fuckin' _hate_ this place! I fuckin' _need_ some damned _chocolate_!"

"Chocolate…?" Seifer echoed as he heard a cigarette being lit, which made him reach for his own.

"Yes. Chocolate. At the moment, I'd even fuckin' suck Detective Ice-Cock's ice cock for some chocolate…"

"It'd probably melt…" Seifer mused, then found himself snickering around his smoke at the mental image.

Irvine snorted and slithered off the top bunk, going over to the little sink to wash the dried blood off his face. He balanced his cigarette precariously on the edge of the steel while he worked. He hissed when he pressed gingerly at the already darkening bruise alongside his nose. Oh well. It matched the split lip and still-tender slapped area. Maybe he should stop pissing Seifer off… but fuck it was funny. And the heat of the blond's anger was a thrilling opposite to the cool of his own demeanour, he couldn't deny that.

His pants felt _so damn tight_.

"I swear I won't look if you got to do something about that," Seifer said, nodding at Irvine's pants, and the assassin suddenly realised his cellmate hadn't cursed even once since Zell left. The blond blew idle smoke rings.

"Somethin' about what?" Irvine replied blandly, climbing back up to the top bunk.

He moved like a long-limbed cat, Seifer thought, then amended the comparison – he moved like a long-limbed cat _with a hard-on_. Poor Paris.

"Seriously, Paris. That's got to be painful. I won't even _listen_."

"Seriously, Jade," Irvine replied in a sarcastic mimicking tone. "Listenin' to you partake in bizarre mating rituals that I, like, don't even wanna damnwell _think_ about did not turn me on."

Seifer scoffed.

"You fucking _liar_!" There was the swearing again, but he was laughing through the words.

"No lie," Irvine said solemnly, rubbing helplessly, and uselessly at the front of his pants.

"Bullshit." Seifer's head appeared over the edge of the bunk and Irvine jerked his hand away, but the blond had seen, and he smirked. "Not turned on, huh? Lying little bastard."

"Fuck off, Jade."

Instead, Seifer smirked and, bracing himself with one hand, stroked the other up Irvine's thigh to cup the evident bulge, thumb rubbing gently. The assassin hissed, showing his teeth, and rolled away from Seifer, showing him his back.

"I said; fuck off."

"Mmm…" was Seifer's only reply and his hand curled over Irvine's hip and dipped against his arousal again. "If you won't take care of this, I will. I don't want to listen to you pissing and moaning all day because you're fucking horny."

"I don't need you touchin' me!" Irvine snarled, but he shuddered when Seifer reached inside his pants, having quickly undone belt and zipper. "Jade, I'm serious…"

"Then why don't you sound it?" the blond's mouth was hot against his ear.

Irvine gave another shiver, then jerked away from Seifer again, sitting up, and righting his pants, despite how his body cried out. It was ridiculous. Under any other circumstance, he'd be all over Seifer like a rash. But he hated being told what to do, unless it was a job, and everyone kept telling him to bend over and offer his arse on a silver platter to this inmate. He refused to do it, to bow to anyone's wishes but his own. Okay, yes, at the moment his wish was to bend over and offer his arse on a silver platter to this inmate, but because everyone was _telling_ him to do that, he just _wouldn't_!

Seifer shrugged.

"Suit yourself," he said flatly, and retreated to his own bunk. Irvine tried to be quiet about it, but Seifer grinned when he heard the assassin shift and sigh.

Javier looked up as Zell's voice clearly spoke the override and he stepped within their cell, a smirk curving his lips. There was no mistaking that look – he'd been with Seifer. Sometimes, when Javier thought about it too much, it hurt a little. But Zell had saved him from having a truly bad time in here, and he was grateful for that.

He smiled shyly at his lover, already shirtless and waiting to please. Zell came to him, hands knowing and mouth hot. He loved Javier's willingness, his eager need to please, and he had cultivated it and still was, helping the younger man learn what he needed to know, and providing protection from harsher, uncaring inmates.

Seifer had never wanted Javier, proclaiming him 'too young' and 'almost a kid', but there were plenty of men who would have taken him, and broken him, viciously and without a care for his fragility. It wasn't that he was weak, but he wasn't a hardened criminal like a lot of the inmates. They had, in fact, been surprised when he'd been put in here. His 'crime' was an accident, and fear, and a first offence besides (aside from a few speeding fines), but apparently some judge at the time had wanted to make an example.

Poor Javier.

Zell stroked him gently, and made him moan then took him and afterwards, the raven-haired man curled up against his side like a faithful little puppy. The guard stroked his hair and thought about Seifer and Irvine and hoped he wouldn't find that a grease-spot on the wall was all that was left of the assassin when the cells were opened after noon lock-up.

(1) Thanks to Eoko's obsessive tendencies we know that this term refers to inmates who actively seek sexual encounters with bitches. I think you can pick the wolves of this fic. -grins-


	6. Mayhem

_**For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge.**_

___ A Kitty and Eoko Fanfiction._

Warnings: Swearing! (In case you hadn't noticed that by now.) And boy/boy relations (In case you hadn't worked that out by now.)

Disclaimer: Eoko and I do not own the FF8 characters. TT Such a sad, sad thing. We don't even make any money off of this. Woe.

Author's Notes:

Kitty: I am highly amused that "Mayhem" is actually listed as a charge on the website I'm using to pick the names for the chapter. Granted, it actually refers to causing injury on purpose, which has nothing to do with this chapter at all, but the whole chapter is filled with mayhem anyway. Who knew Mayhem was a felony?

Eoko: As that is probably not a Canadian or Australian site- well at least not Canadian, I will ignore that classification as a criminal act. Also, yay for chapter.

Kitty: I think it's American, since there's no country add-on thingy after the URL. But it was the only one I could find with more than about five charges on it. --

Eoko: I think you're right, since it uses felony.

Kitty: Probably. Nevermind though, eh? I don't even know how long since we last uploaded. I am very slack and forgetful.

Eoko: Yeah... worse than me. grins

Kitty: Shut up.

Eoko: You shut up, and update.

Kitty: I'm going to. That's why we're doing these Author Notes.

Eoko: looks at them I think that's good.

Kitty: Kay prances off

_Chapter 6 – Mayhem._

Zell had stayed with Javier for the remainder of the noon lock up, not that there was much time left to spend idly after discussing matters with the Elites, sucking off Seifer and then taking the boy that was presently resting next to him. Still, it was a pleasant way to pass the time until the cell doors opened again.

He and his boy had gotten dressed again after they'd caught their breath, and now awaited the opportunity to go to dinner. When the doors opened Zell shooed the raven haired boy out and off to his meal.

The tattooed man headed over to Seifer's cell to make sure he and Irvine were both in fact alive. He was fairly certain that his impromptu blow job had effectively calmed the mob boss, but he wasn't sure exactly how long that calm would last.

He smirked when he got to Seifer's cell, the occupants already moving to go to dinner. "Glad to see you both survived."

"Like he could do anything to me, Ink. Fuck, you crazy?" Seifer said, motioning with his hand and chuckling.

Zell glanced over at the hitman and cocked a brow. "I'm sure he's got something up his sleeve, or down that hidden pocket he's somehow managed." He smiled pleasantly as sky blue eyes glared menacingly at him.

"You're starting to look pretty beat up, Paris," he commented offhandedly, joining Seifer as he left his cell and headed toward the mess hall.

Irvine glared harder and followed behind the two. "Funny that. Here I thought beatings were, like, good for the complexion."

"I see your 'good humor' is still intact," the taller blond said, nudging the shorter in the arm and snickering.

- - -

The rest of the evening was uneventful, even for the displeased cell mates. Irvine had actually managed to go several hours without being hit. He was finding that it was much more enjoyable to _not_ get hit. Now, if only he could fuel that fire in his green eyed cell mate and avoid having his own go black.

When the bell for night lock up sounded everyone made their way back to their little box homes and began to settle down for the night. Zell rested his arms on the reinforcing bar of his cell, hands dangling out into the hall.

"Is it Tuesday, or Wednesday?" the blond asked, face turned to the left and towards Seifer and Irvine's cell. They were only two down.

"Wednesday, why?" Seifer asked, taking up a similar position at his own cell, face turned right.

"We'll have to do introductions then." He chuckled and ran his fingers through his hair.

"Introductions for wh- oh… right. I forgot they were in tonight. Well, better to shock him all at the beginning."

"Shock who, bout what, when, and what the fuck?" Irvine's voice floated down to Zell's ears, though not nearly so clear as Seifer. The guard suspected he was further back in the cell, maybe brushing that silky looking hair…

"Just a couple guards…" Zell replied, trying to decide if that was the best word to describe them.

"Oh joy. Couple more arseholes like Captian Hardarse? Are you goin' to tell me to, like, suck up to them and be a good little prison boy scout?"

Seifer nearly choked, and then proceeded to almost have a head on collision with the bars of his cell. "Oh hell. _No_. They aren't like the captain. Not at _all_. They're worse."

"Scary as all hell. Even I'm terrified. Rikan!" Zell called to his right. "You know who I'm talking bout, right?"

"Fuck yea," the voice of the robber joined the conversation. "Terrifying… those two. Man, when they're together, better to play dead."

"Or you could just do that twenty-four seven and make all our lives more enjoyable, twit," Seifer added, then resolved he'd say nothing more to the spiky haired man that evening.

"Don't worry, Lock," Zell purred. "Some of us like you well enough."

"Whore!" Seifer accused as his face twisted into a look of anger. Rikan didn't deserve Zell's attention. Not when he was joking and especially not on the rare occasion he got it. The thief wasn't even recognized as being in existence to Prof, he wasn't anywhere near the top of the heap, and frankly only managed to stay relatively safe because he was too annoying to deal with _or_ rape.

"Gah!" Seifer exclaimed. "Get off me!"

Zell moved to the farthest right of his cell and pressed his face against the bars to catch a glimpse of the two guards of the hour, each with their middle finger and thumb pinching one of the taller blond's own fingers.

He pulled his hand back and inspected it as if worried he been infected by something astronomically dangerous and most likely deadly.

The shortest of the two guards, and actually shorter than Zell, giggled merrily and swatted the taller in the arm. "Hell_oooo_, Seifer." She beamed at him and he took a step back.

"Where's the fish?" the taller woman with bleach blond hair asked, pushing her cap up with her night stick and peering into the cell.

"Yeah!" the brunette beside her just short of cheered. "Heard he's a bit of a looker."

"A bit?" the silky, accented voice of Irvine Kinneas inquired, stepping to the side, and thus out from where Seifer's mass had been obscuring him.

"He's a cowboy!" the shorter girl said gleefully. "Say '_Hyowday, pardner_'!" she commanded, going so far as to point at him.

"Fuck no," Irvine replied, staring openly at the little brunette. He turned his head to the taller woman when he heard a low, approving whistle escape her lips.

"How is he?" she asked, eyes moving from the long haired inmate to the blond. "Looks like a screamer to me."

"Eoko!" the spunky woman said, giggling and swatting the arm of her friend once again.

"_He_ wouldn't know," Irvine said dryly, climbing up onto his bunk, and began attempting to ignore the obviously crazy women posing as correctional officers.

"That so?" the woman, now known as Eoko, asked. She let her night stick fall into her open palm before wrapping her fingers around it and moving them 'absently' up and down the metal shaft. "Haven't fucked that sweet arse yet, Almasy?"

"How would _you_ know?!" Irvine cried, glaring over the side of his bunk.

"I'm _biding_ my_ time_," Seifer ground out between clenched teeth. He and the guards ignored Irvine this time. The brunette because she had fallen into another one of her giggle-fests and no one could say when she'd finish.

"Stop molesting your poor baton!" Zell cried, nearly dying of laughter, clutching the bars of his cell for dear life.

"Fufufino _likes_ when I molest him, thank ya very much, Mr. Dincht!"

"Zelly!" the shorter woman cried and skipped, yes _skipped_, over to his cell and knocked him very lightly against the forehead with her own baton.

"My _name_ is Ink, Kitty."

"No s'not," she sang and giggled again.

"Oh my _fucking_ gods! What are _you_ on, and does _she_ ever stop?!" Irvine exploded, leaning over the edge of the bunk and glaring so hard at Eoko she even so much as raised a brow. Seifer got ready to catch him should he over balance.

"There's a _reason_ they're called 'Perv and Giggles'," he said, shaking his head.

"Let me guess who's who…. Fucking lunatics…"

"We like to think so," the bleach blond said, smile spread wide across her face. "Well, I better save Ink from Giggles…" she trailed off as her attention turned towards the brunette.

"Stop. Poking. Me. With. Your. Baton!" Zell said, getting only a single word out between pokes.

"Sephiroth commands you to step away from the cell bars, Mr. Dincht!" she grinned, then giggled when her comrade began humming the villain's theme song.

"Fuck _me_, you should have called them Beavis and Butthead!" The hitman threw himself face first into his pillow and proceeded to _whimper_.

"Wouldn't account for their infatuation with watching us fuck," Seifer said, leaving Zell and the girls to themselves and moving over to Irvine's bunk. He lifted a hand and brought it to the auburn haired man's shoulder, rubbing there. "Scared the shit out of me too. Don't know how they ever got hired."

"They… watch…?" Irvine asked, completely oblivious to everything else said and done after that statement.

"Mhmm, and just short of eating popcorn while doing so, too. I think they said they were 'fangirls' or something."

"And fangirls just go around watching gay sex to get their rocks off??" Sky blue eyes clearly showed the distress and shock evident in his voice.

"Their kind do. Hold on." He turned his head back toward the bars. "Perv! What do you call watching us, the smartsy one?"

"Entertainment for the heterosexually uninterested?" she asked, voice lifting enough to easily carry back to him. "Or anal confections?"

"_Not_ the second one!" Zell screamed and made a motion to attempt to smack the perverted woman. "I told you to never utter that phrase again!"

Irvine wrentched his head around and stared in absolute horror in the direction the voice had floated. "Does she have _no __**shame**_?!"

"None to speak of. Miss Lens wants to study them."

"I ain't never getting fucked with _them_ around!" he cried and returned to whimpering into his pillow. "I'd rather shove seven or eight inches of Alastar down my throat and be done with it!"

One of Seifer's golden brows rose into a lovely arch. "Who's Alastar?" he asked, voice deep and dangerously quiet.

"My _gun_," Irvine sneered. "My _rifle_. And in case I say the same but with Exeter, _she's_ my shotgun."

"You name all the 'guns' you're so intimate with?" the green eyed man asked, lips spreading into a devilish smirk. "Should I tell you what to call mine, or will you grace it with a name all your own?" (1)

"Like fuck your little pin-dick is getting anywhere close enough to be _intimate_! Fuck the _hell_ off, and get off me!" Irvine lashed out with his hand to dislodge Seifer's on his shoulder, only to get that grabbed up instead.

The blond gave a vicious pull, arm already bent at an awkward angle and forcing the hitman to arch and twist more in order to limit the pain shooting up to his brain. Seifer brought his lips to the slender man's ear and nipped once, then spoke. "You ran outta luck a long time ago, what you're running on now, I got no clue, but eventually it'll run out too. And if you keep this shit up, you better get used to calling my _gun_ your worst nightmare."

With that he threw the assassin roughly back down onto his mattress and stalked off to the sink to clean up for bed.

Kitty and Eoko stepped back in front of Seifer's cell. He could see them look at each other, then disapprovingly at him. They encouraged the openly gay and bisexual inmates to form healthy, safe relationships, not rape whoever they wanted. He lifted his middle finger over his shoulder at them and went back to brushing his teeth.

The brunette sighed and reached into the pouch at her side. The taller woman reached into her pocket. Each withdrew one item and moved to the side of the cell nearest the bunks. They reached in and lofted both items up onto Irvine's bunk before continuing on their rounds.

Irvine cocked a brow and slowly lifted himself from the position he had been thrown. He curled up his knees and leaned up, looking down at the foot of his bunk where the two 'gifts' sat. He reached out and picked them up, looking at them closely. One was a tube of face and hand lotion with aloe vera, the other was medicated lip chap. His brow arched again, higher and he looked out past the bars of his cell.

"What'd you get?" Seifer asked, laying down in his bed.

The hitman blinked and tucked the items into his pillowcase. "Lotion with aloe and lip chap."

"Guess they heard you were getting roughed up."

"They give everyone gifts?"

"Only those they expect to watch. Guess you set off their gaydar."

"They're women!" he protested.

"Bisexual women to be precise. They have it too." Seifer grinned to himself at that. Not that his own senses weren't telling him that Irvine would in fact enjoy being with him. But it was nice to have the outside perspective on his side as well.

Irvine groaned loudly at the exact same time the lights went out and he fell once again with his face buried in his pillow. "I hate it here…" he murmured.

- - - - - - -

(1) Gold. Pure gold. This is one of my favourite lines in this fic, and that's saying a lot since I think there are a lot of good lines that came from us both. But this is just made of epic win. ILU, Ko-Ko


	7. Invasion of Privacy

_**For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge.**_

_ A Kitty and Eoko Fanfiction._

Warnings: Swearing! (In case you hadn't noticed that by now.) And boy/boy relations (In case you hadn't worked that out by now.) Violence.

Disclaimer: Eoko and I do not own the FF8 characters. TT Such a sad, sad thing. We don't even make any money off of this. Woe.

Author's Notes:

Kitty: Woe! The update is way late again.

Eoko: And you used to give me hell.

Kitty: I know, right? I'll try to be better, but it's report time and stuff.

Eoko: Hey, if I can live with only being able to RP once or twice a week, I can forgive a late update. Besides, we write for us, and we've already read it. XD

Kitty: True, true. Although I don't know if I can live with only being able to RP once or twice a week... Keke.

Eoko: You'll get a holiday soon enough. Also, the manga WINTER DEMON 3 is AMAZING! OMNOMNOM DEMON SMEX!

Kitty: Oh, I saw that one, but I didn't get it because of brother... stuff. And you know how I feel about that.

Eoko: Brother stuff? The only brother stuff is the little story at the end to entice you to buy Dark Prince.

Kitty: Wait... uh... Man, I can't remember now. Anyway! I suppose we should let them get on with readng the fic.

Eoko: Yea! We can go talk about sexy manga by ourselves. XD

Kitty: Or, you know, RP while we have the chance. Yes! Read on, oh loyal subjects, read on!

_Chapter 7 – Invasion of Privacy._

"You're really twitchy, Paris… Miss out on your morning coffee or something…?" Zell wondered, watching with more than a little appreciation as the assassin bench-pressed fifty-five kilos. (1) Muscle flexed along his arms and under his singlet.

Irvine ignored him.

"You should have a spotter," Zell pointed out after a moment and when Irvine didn't reply, he moved to stand at Irvine's head, holding his hands out in case he should lose his grip on the barbell.

"I ain't goin' to drop it," Irvine drawled. "I got steady hands…"

"I bet you do," Zell murmured with a smirk, but he didn't move. From where he stood, he had the perfect view of Irvine's entire body, and it really was a sight. It was evident the man kept his body in supreme condition. His stamina must be amazing… The guard couldn't help that his mind wandered a little.

"Ink!"

Zell looked up, blinking, but Irvine continued, sweat making his singlet cling to him and his hair curl against his cheeks, sticking there. He had a feeling those were _nipple-rings_ he could see through the material…It took the guard a long moment to bring himself out of his daydreams – some spotter he really made. Too bad if Irvine had, indeed, dropped the barbell.

"Jade…?"

"What do you think you're doing?" Seifer growled, standing toe-to-toe with Zell and towering over him.

"I'm… spotting for Paris…" Zell replied, blinking owlishly.

"No, you're drooling all over him like a raccoon in heat. Fucking whore. Back off, before I make you."

"Geez, calm down, Jade. You'd've killed me if he dropped the damn weights and died while I was here…"

"You're talking, but I don't hear a word you're saying, because it's all stupid shit. I'll spot for him."

"Fuck, Jade. You're a bitch to live with when you're being told no," Zell growled, and went to a second bench preparing, and then proceeding to bench-press, thirty kilos (2) _more_ than Irvine.

"Shouldn't he, like, have a spotter…?" Irvine pointed out flatly, arching a brow up at Seifer. It was quite a good angle to look at him from, the assassin mused, and would be improved if he was without pants.

"Trust me, he'll _never_ drop those weights," Seifer replied, but he nodded to Javier a minute later when the kid appeared and went to spot for Zell.

"Your worship of him is kinda sickenin'…" Irvine muttered.

"I swear you're just getting bitchier, Paris… Do you _want_ to die?"

Irvine shrugged awkwardly from under the barbell. He considered for a moment, then gave a slight grin.

"I'm in here for basically the rest of my life anyways. Might as well damnwell die…"

"Or you could stop being such a prat and open up a little, if you catch my meaning."

"I'm not stupid, Blondie…" Irvine growled.

"Could have fooled me," Seifer growled right back. He moved fast to straddle Irvine's waist, hands going around the barbell and tearing it from the assassin's hands. He dropped it to the floor with a thud that made everyone look over, then away again because, of course, he could do whateverthefuck he wanted and God help anyone who said otherwise. He planted his feet on the floor and took hold of Irvine's wrists, jerking them down against his stomach.

"You don't give u-"

Seifer used the opportunity presented by Irvine's open mouth to plunge his tongue in for a hard, possessive kiss. He felt the other man start to give into it, then he twitched and arched, trying to pull away. Seifer just didn't get it. Why the hell did he keep fighting when it was obvious he didn't want to?!

"Paris, what the hell is your problem?!" he snarled in the man's face. "You want i-"

Seifer suddenly found himself dragged off his cellmate and rammed down onto the floor. A set of hands went to each of his arms, and a fifth, fisted, connected excruciatingly with his face. He spat blood and glared up at the smirking face of Captain Kinley Hardarse.

"Arsehole…" the guard growled, and courageously kicked the man's kidneys while he was pinned. Seifer groaned but didn't give the man the satisfaction of crying out.

Suddenly, without anyone really being sure how it happened, the guard found _himself_ pinned to the floor with six feet of assassin on his stomach.

"You know…" Irvine remarked with a cold detachment that came easily to him. "I could kill you, if I hit you hard enough in just the right place…"

"_Paris_! Get off him!" It was Zell's voice, and Zell's fist in the back of his singlet.

Irvine just smirked slowly at the man beneath him and let Zell drag him free, getting to his feet and dusting his hands off as though he'd touched something particularly nasty. He glanced at the other two guards, who took their hands away from Seifer as though they'd been burned.

Seifer stared at him. So did everyone else, but he just put his nose in the air as though nothing had happened.

"You got a visitor, Kinneas," one of the guards said.

"Yeah?" Irvine replied. "Lead on."

"Cuff him," Kinley demanded, getting to his feet.

Irvine smiled sweetly and offered his wrists while the other inmates stood well back, Seifer wiping blood from his chin. No one was ever safe when Kinley was around, and Irvine would suffer in the coming weeks or months or years for his behaviour.

The guards handcuffed him then lead him to the visiting room and over to where a little brunette in a snappy yellow suit with a ridiculously low neckline and a ridiculously short skirt sat at one of the glass tables, waiting for him. He eyed her and sighed happily. Her legs were amazing.

Fuck, he was horny…

"Hey there, li'l darlin'," he drawled smoothly, leaning over to kiss her cheek before he sat. She giggled and flapped her hand at him, but it was obvious she had no objections.

"Hello, Mr. Kinneas," she replied, lifting a hand to fluff the upsweep at the end of her hair.

"Oh, come now. You don't gotta be that formal. 'Less you want me to call you Miss. Tilmitt…?"

"Ew, good point," the woman said, making a face. "No, call me Selphie, and I'll call you Paris."

Irvine scowled.

"Where did you hear that?"

She giggled, shrugging her shoulders, and leaned forward on her elbows, showing impossibly more cleavage.

"You think you're the only one who I've got in here?" she asked sweetly.

Irvine rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Well, you can call me Irvine, or I'll just piss off."

"Aww… don't you like your wittle bitch-name?" Selphie crooned, sitting back again, and giggling insanely.

"…I'm no one's bitch… And I don't have to stay here." He started to stand, but she grabbed his hand.

"No, I'm sorry! I won't call you a bitch, or Paris." She took a little notepad out of her jacket pocket, along with a pen and crossed one leg over the other. "So, tell me, how has your time here been so far?"

"Ain't you forgettin' somethin', li'l missy?" he replied, arching a brow.

"Uhh…"

"Chocolate. Chocolate for answers. No chocolate, no answers."

"Crap. I forgot! But… I'll bring twice as much next time!"

"Nope. That ain't good enough. I only work pre-paid."

"But… I need-"

"You know I don't care 'bout your little expose, girly. I couldn't give a flyin' fuck what you want to publish in your daily rag…"

"It's a national paper!"

"Hooray for it…" Irvine said in a bored manner.

"You promised!"

"Darlin', I'm an _assassin_… I ain't doin' nothin' for free. You bring me the chocolate, or I won't say a thing. That's how it works. Like it or lump it, girly."

"But… but… but… Please? _Please_? Pretty, pretty please with sugar and a cherry on top?"

"Oh, stop it. If beggin' worked on me, I wouldn't be in here for multiple murders, now would I?" He smiled darkly at her and she shrunk away, swallowing and shaking her head.

"N-no… I guess not…"

"Precisely. Now, it's very simple. Chocolate. Answers. The end. Later, gorgeous." And with that, he stood, turning and heading for the door. One of the guards there stepped aside and opened the door, a second taking Irvine back to the yard.

"Hot visitor, Paris," Rikan said as the guard was removing the handcuffs.

"She'd look better if she'd brought what she promised me…" Irvine replied darkly, but then he gave a slight smile. "But she is pretty foxy…"

Seifer curled his lip in undisguised disgust.

"Fucking women. They're all the same. Cling to you and fawn and giggle stupidly…" he muttered.

"So… like Lock, then…?" Illo said, grinning.

Everyone laughed, except Rikan, who scowled, and Irvine, who turned around and headed off.

"Where are you going?" Seifer asked.

"Not that it's any of your business…" Irvine replied, and disappeared around a corner.

"I reckon he's going for a shower," Raphael said.

"Off you go and set his clothes on fire then, Blaze," Rikan said.

Everyone ignored him this time.

Seifer went after Irvine.

- - - - - - -

Sure enough, when Seifer arrived, Irvine was under the hot water, a hand against the tiles and his wet hair around his shoulders. He sighed and groaned happily and Seifer licked his lips. Between his shoulders, a bucking bronco was tattooed, hooves shining and raising a cloud of dust.

"Jade," Irvine said by way of greeting, despite the fact that the blond hadn't even spoken or moved.

"How do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Know I'm around even when I don't say anything."

Irvine snorted, throwing his head back and running his hands through his hair. He arched his back and lifted one foot onto its toes like a horse.

"It were my job to make sure I never got caught. I got pretty damn good senses…"

"But no brains."

"How do you equate brains with lettin' you fuck me?"

"Protection, of course."

Irvine shrugged his shoulders and turned off the water, drawing a towel around his hips and tying it off. He lifted a second towel and began to dry his hair, watching Seifer.

"I can look after myself."

"Are you sure about that? One knife isn't going to protect you if some of them lower down figure out no one's on your side, and no one will much care if they touch you." He moved closer, voice dropping. "They're like piranhas, you know. They depend on numbers."

"Jade… you don't scare me. Just back the fuck off."

"Why did you attack Captain Hardarse?" Seifer asked suddenly, possibly trying to take Irvine off guard. The assassin wasn't caught.

"I may hate you, but I hate him even more, on principle. You both hit me, but he's a guard. You ain't. I'm on your side, when it comes to him, but that don't mean I'm goin' to bend over and wriggle my hips at you."

"Whoever said anything about you having to wriggle them?"

"Oh, ha, ha…" Irvine muttered and dropped the towel, getting dressed again.

Seifer didn't even bother to be covert about watching him. There was another tattoo on his stomach, a brightly-marked rattlesnake with its head curling over his navel. And – the mob boss bit back a groan – his nipples were pierced.

"You really are built to be fucked, Paris…"

"I know," Irvine replied, smirking as he dressed. "But I ain't that desperate that I want to be fucked by you."

"Some people would _beg_ to be fucked by me," Seifer growled, following Irvine out of the showers as the assassin finished towelling his hair and tossed the towel into a laundry basket.

"Ink? Ink don't count, darlin'. He'd beg to be fucked by _me_, and I don't do that with men. No siree."

"Then you do fuck men, or rather, you let them fuck you…"

Irvine smirked over his shoulder, heading for the yard again.

"Wouldn't you like to know, Jade. Wouldn't _you_ like to know…"

"I guess you didn't fuck him that time, either," Zell said as Seifer returned and Irvine went to lean against a wall, lighting a smoke. Seifer followed suit, pulling out his smokes as well and offering one to Zell. The guard just arched an "are-you-braindead?" eyebrow, and Seifer took them back, shrugging.

"I saw him naked. Fuck, he's sexy… I'm this close to just tying him to his bed with his sheets and fucking his cowboy brains out…"

Zell snorted.

"Just because he sounds like a cowboy, doesn't mean he is or was one."

"No, but the bronco between his shoulder blades is a dead giveaway."

"He has tattoos?!"

"Yes, Ink, he has tattoos."

"Dammit!"

"Oh, get over it…" Seifer muttered.

"Bet they aren't as good as mine."

The mob boss just rolled his eyes and took a long, soothing drag on his cigarette. He flicked the end off, and glanced at Zell.

"Hey, Ink… reckon you can get your hands on some chocolate…?"

- - - - - - -

(1) That's one hundred and twenty pounds for you Americans. Everyone else is metric! Get over it! Also, this Irvine could bench-press me and not even break a sweat. I weigh forty-five kilos.

(2) Sixty-six pounds.


	8. Assault and Administering a Substance

_**For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge.**_

_ A Kitty and Eoko Collaboration Fic._

Warnings: Late updates...?

Disclaimer: Don't own FF8 or make money off this fic.

Parings: Duh.

Author's Notes:

From Eoko: You're worse than I am dammit. See what I mean about failing at it when we don't see each other daily? The poor damn fans. Anyway, tell em Ray of Hope Orphanage updated. Or, I just did. And also, any huge Selphie RPer fans, message me on AIM (Booya Blond). I need a Selphie.

From Me: Yes, I am worse than she was. Really. In my defence, I've been flat out like a lizard drinking lately. Go me. I had a 21st party, have 21 children under 8 to deal with every day, have to plan for them every night, am in a production of Oliver, and my cosplay plans are up shit creek without a paddle. Suffice it to say, I have been a little stressed lately. To make up for my EPIC tardiness. I offer you two chapters. One of Eoko's and one of mine. And I promise, next fortnight, you will get updates... maybe. No, I'll do my best. Loves on you all.

_Chapter 8 – Sexual Assult._

Two days had passed. Zell had asked Eoko and Kitty about bringing in some chocolate. As long as they declared the items and had them checked they were allowed. It wasn't like they were smuggling in contraband and the like.

Still, when the tattooed blond had inquired as to whether they would help or not Eoko had cocked a brow at him and asked why he needed chocolate. When his reply was given that Seifer wanted it she arched the other brow.

Seifer wasn't exactly the type to indulge in a sweet treat, unless that sweet treat was better known as a cigarette or a fine piece of arse. She had looked to Kitty for her theory on why the mobster would want chocolate.

Zell, though, had come to his own conclusion and had put forth that it had something to do with Irvine. Considering Seifer's obsession with getting in the assassin's pants it was pretty clear he'd use it to accomplish that goal.

At hearing this Eoko started asking what type he liked and what his favourite brand was while Kitty started fumbling madly through the little pouch she had to see if she had any on her at the moment. By the end of the little discussion they promised to have a few chocolate bars the next time they were in.

That was tonight, and Zell was grateful to them since maybe Seifer would stop being such a supreme arse just because he couldn't get laid by the auburn-haired hitman. Zell was _more_ than willing to help Seifer get laid, but fine. If he wasn't interested at the moment maybe he'd just take Rikan up on his hopeful pleading.

Seifer was off doing his job at the moment so he was blessedly not drooling over Irvine for all he was worth. He had to ensure he could afford his cigarettes so a few days a week in the metal shop was worth it. He was quite good at what he did though.

But with Seifer busy Zell could take the opportunity to admire Irvine for himself without having the taller blond breathing down his neck. He was being stupid with all this possessiveness. He knew damn well that if he said Zell couldn't take him first then he wouldn't.

Speaking of the apparent cowboy, where had he disappeared to and what sort of trouble was he getting into this time? More guard brawls, or perhaps he was chatting up that girly Rikan had told him about. Well, definitely time to go find him.

- - - - - - -

Irvine walked around the yard, bored as usual. He almost wished Seifer were around so that he could coolly provoke him to the point of exploding. At least the man was entertainment, if not a pain in the arse. Well, considering the way things were going, he might become that as well.

The hitman cocked a brow and peered around a corner where the buildings came together to form a sort of little alcove. It was nice. Small and quiet, hardly noticeable. You couldn't even really see it from any main part of the yard, only from the strip directly in front of it parallel to the programs building and library.

Suddenly it dawned on him what other benefits a secluded little alcove might have as two sets of arms quickly wrapped around his and held him fast. He jerked left and right but the men were built and were in no way inclined to let him go. They pulled him into the back of the alcove and turned him to face out toward the yard.

Blocking his view were two men, one was tall, toned, and tanned. He had raven-dark hair and possessed brown-gold come-to-bed eyes. Behind him was a muscled brute that grinned at him lecherously. Off to the left was a rat-ish little man that kept peering around the corner- a look out.

_Fuck._

"Hello. It's so lovely to finally meet you. Paris, right? That's what everyone calls you in here, isn't it?" came the smooth, rich voice of the rather attractive looking inmate. He had a voice that could melt your spine.

Irvine however, was unphased by the voice, much more concerned with that fact that five men were far, _far_ to close to him and it didn't take a genius to understand why. "S'right. And what do they call you?" he asked, lifting his head and looking down his nose at the dark haired man.

"Ethan, Ethan Kayne. I haven't the _pleasure_ of procuring a prison name," he said, grin in place as he stepped closer to Irvine and lifted a hand to comb through the strands of silken hair the assassin let fall in front of his ears.

Irvine jerked his head to the side and glared dangerously at the man. "Get off me," he growled, pulling and twisting at the arms that held him.

All he got in reply was a mingled sound of chuckles and hearty laughs.

"Oh no, no, no," Ethan said, grin still covering his smug face. "We intend to have a _lot_ of fun with you." He dropped his hand to slide up under the hitman's shirt and against his smooth, hard stomach.

_No… No! Fuck!_ He twisted again and coiled away from the man's touch. He didn't _look_ the type, and Irvine had never experienced a feeling like it before in his life, but the touch screamed _rapist_.

At the struggle Irvine put up Ethan decided to show the assassin just what his place was. He took hold of the man's singlet in both his hands and smirked wickedly before pulling hard, tearing the cheap material in two.

Irvine's eyes widened a moment before he calmed his outer appearance. He wouldn't let these men have the satisfaction of his fear. He would not give them anything. They deserved nothing.

Ethan made an appreciative sound in the back of his throat as the sight of the two silver loops adorning the hitman's nipples. He took one between his fingers and tugged. A cool, sky blue glare was the only answer he got for it.

"Turn him around, against the wall," Ethan commanded the two men that held him firmly. "And once I've had my fill, he's all yours, boys."

Irvine shut his eyes tightly as two sets of hands shifted and gripped again, turning him around and pressing him against the cool, shaded surface of the back wall. His mind was racing while he forced his breathing to remain steady.

_No… please, please, please, no…_

The little group's leader wound his arms around Irvine, hands making quick work of the button and fly of his pants. A moment later and those pants and his boxers pooled around prison-issue sneakers. Another moment and the sound of a second zipper slowly sliding down met frightened ears.

_This is going to _hurt_!_

"Fuck!" came a vehement curse and Irvine's eyes shot open. As the hands holding him loosened he twisted wildly, breaking out of their grip. He curled down and into himself, able only to pull his pants back up before he clutched his knees and pressed closer to the wall. He couldn't hear what was going on and his eyes were pressed tight shut once more.

Zell had seen the lookout and, knowing what that alcove was sometimes used for, went over to investigate. The eyes of the group had bolted upon seeing Zell approaching, not even uttering a warning to the men behind him.

What the tattooed blond saw next filled him with possessiveness enough for himself and Seifer and an overwhelming urge to protect the man about to be _defiled_ by one of the most heartless, cruellest people within the walls of this prison.

He reacted on fury and instinct, hours of training kicking in. Zell grabbed Ethan by the shoulders and drove his knee up and around into the side of the man's thigh, causing his leg to buckle and making it that much easier to turn him slightly and slam him down into the ground.

The guard held Ethan's arms behind his back and dug a knee between the rapist's shoulder blades. His eyes turned towards the rest of the men, glaring daggers and _daring_ them to just try something so he had an excuse to break a few bones.

"Back the fuck off him. Get your _worthless_ arses out of here before I lose my restraint," Zell hissed dangerously and dug his knee into Ethan's back, forcing a pained cry to escape his lips. They didn't need more encouragement than that. They tore off and scattered.

The blond leaned down, lips coming close to the pinned man's ear. "That was the _stupidest_ thing you could have ever done, _Ethan_. You're lucky I don't rat, to guards or inmates. You try this shit again and I'll rip your cock off and shove it down that sweet talking mouth of yours." The steadiness and vindication in Zell's voice caused Ethan to shiver with fright.

"Yes, Ink…"

With that Zell pulled back and off the man, wiping himself off, disgusted with having had touched the smooth voiced rapist. "Now _get_ the _fuck_ out of here!" he yelled.

Ethan started at the volume then quickly left the alcove, leaving Zell and the cowering Irvine alone.

The fury and anger melted away at the sight of Irvine and was replaced with sympathy and a need to comfort him. He moved over to the man, dropping to his knees and wrapping his arms around him from behind.

Irvine jerked and twisted, struggling in the man's grip. He flailed his arms and fought hard until those arms came around his, holding them against his body and held him tighter, closer. He wanted to scream and cry out. Anything that would stop this.

"Paris," Zell's voice was soft but the hitman kept struggling in his hold. "Paris," he repeated. "Paris- _Ir_vine."

"Ink…?" Irvine asked, voice soft as his eyes opened a little again.

"I'm here. Don't worry." The blond relaxed his arms, holding the hitman protectively but no longer preventing his movements, mostly because he was no longer moving much. He slid his hands down to the front of Irvine's pants and the man jerked in his arms.

"Don't touch me!" he cried, then realised that Zell was doing his pants back up, not taking the opportunity to fondle him. He looked down at the ground. "What are you doin'…?"

"Making you presentable again. Are you alright? Did they hurt you?"

"No… they didn't get that far. Guess I'm lucky for once to have your little bitch arse watchin' out for me on Seifer's behalf." He twisted his head to the side to look over his shoulder as the guard slipped his torn top off. Less than a minute later Zell had pulled his own off and got Irvine into it.

The blond smiled gently. "Listen, Paris. I know it's hard. How do ya think it was for me when I came in? I'd done my practicums here, I worked here before I took on the assignment. They knew I was a guard. That made it really hard. It's just as bad, if not worse for you. You're beautiful and you're trying to get into trouble."

"Fuck off, Ink. I don't need your sentiments or your pity. You don't, like, know me, so don't pretend to." The singlet he was now wearing was warm from Zell's own body heat and it unnerved him a bit. "Aren't people going to wonder why you'll be walkin' around topless?" he inquired though only to change the subject, and he really didn't want to make small talk.

Zell stayed kneeling as Irvine drew away and got to his feet, brushing himself off and getting back into the cold, calculating demeanour that was Irvine Kinneas. "Me? No, they won't think nothing of it. Any excuse really. You can keep that one. Toss it in for cleaning with the rest when ya get back to your cell if ya can't stand smelling me on you. I don't care."

"Well, that's mighty big of you," Irvine said, rolling his eyes, voice obviously sarcastic. He walked off out of the alcove but paused after only a few steps and looked back. His eyes darted to the numerous and intricate black patterns adorning the man's back. No _wonder_ they called him 'Ink'. He snapped out of it before his glance could be defined as staring.

"Listen. You helped me out there. I… appreciate that and all. I would have lived, but it's not like I'd enjoy gettin' raped by a band of lunatics."

Zell grinned over his shoulder, the tattoo on the left side of his face adding to the numerous ones across his back. "I was saving your arse, but I was saving their lives - not that they deserve it - and probably the lives of every living relative outside these walls - who might. Jade would not have been pleased. Speaking of Jade, I take it you'll be forgetting any of this ever happened?"

"Don't see why that mule in heat needs to know anythin'. I'm fine. I look it, don't I? He's a fuckin' arsehole and he don't need to, like, concern himself with me."

The guard moved back onto his feet and fell into step next to Irvine. "He is," Zell admitted with a chuckle. "He's cocky and arrogant and expects everyone to bow down to his every whim and desire. I don't. I brush him off a lot of the time. If he's just on some power trip, I ain't gonna take his high and mighty shit."

Irvine grinned a little but covered it by holding a cigarette between his lips and lighting it. "Looks like you bend over pretty nice for him when it matters."

"Oh, I do. But he ain't the only one benefiting when I _bend over_ to his power trips. You learn to make him happy, and damn can you be fucking happy too."

The auburn haired man twisted his face into a look of disgust. "Goddamn, please. I just went through that ordeal and you, like, want to make me lose my lunch?"

Zell chuckled deep in his throat. "Ah, Paris. I like you."

"Say what?"

"I like you," the blond repeated. "Your attitude, the way you make Jade fucking lose it. It's too funny. And that way you look down your nose at Kinley- _that_ is just priceless. I wish I could look down my nose at that arsehole."

"Can you look down your nose at _anyone_?" Irvine asked, cocking a brow then taking a long satisfying drag on his cig.

"Sure! I can look down my nose at... Giggles and…. ants?"

The assassin snorted, grey smoke coming out of his nose. "Ants, huh? Bet that just terrifies the little critters."

"Oh, no doubt! Uh oh…"

Irvine looked up ahead of them to see Seifer storming their way. "You in trouble, Inky-poo?"

Zell glared up at the hitman. "He doesn't like me within arm's reach of you. Thinks I have no self control- look who's talking!" He shook his head and smiled widely as the taller man came up, right into his personal space, and glared down at him.

"What are you doing?" he growled, jade eyes narrowed to slits.

"I was walking with Paris. We were discussing my ability to terrify ants with a single glance."

Zell's words floated forward to Irvine's ears and he continued walking. He didn't give a damn if the blond idiots had a little yelling match over him. Actually, it was rather pleasant to know that he was oh so important to the two rather… supremely attractive men.

Seifer tilted his head down, then back to meet jubilant sapphire eyes. "Where's your shirt?" he growled, but it was losing its edge. Half-nude Zell did that to an angry Seifer.

"Here," he said casually, waving the hand that held the bunched up shirt in front of the taller man's face. "You know me, Jade," he said, dropping his voice and pressing up against the older blond. "Any reason to get naked, or as close to it."

The mobster grinned, arms winding around the tattooed guard. "Yea, I do know you." He blinked then and lifted his head, looking around. "Where'd he go?"

Zell snorted before burying his face into Seifer's chest and laughing. "He kept going the second you stopped me. Numbskull. Should pay more attention to the man you _want_ to fuck."

The taller blond reached between them and pinched one of Zell's nipples hard, but only made the guard grin against his body in approval. "Fuck up, Ink. Once I bed that pretty boy you know I'll treat you good."

"That a promise?" he inquired, leaning back to look up into deep green eyes.

"You know _me_, Ink. I can go on for hours."

"Hours? Is that right?" Zell asked teasingly, plucking at Seifer's singlet.

"You _know_ it."

_Chapter 9 – Administering a Substance with Intent._

A couple of hours and another helpful blowjob later, Seifer headed off to dinner with a spring in his step and chocolate on his mind. Those two insane girls knew what the chocolate was for, so no doubt it would appear as soon as possible. Of course, they might ask to watch… Irvine might not like that…

Hmm… A trade-off might be in order.

One round with Zell and another with… maybe Tony might persuade them to leave him alone with the chocolate and the assassin. Might.

He literally ran into the aforementioned assassin in a corridor leading back from the yard. The man made no sound, which was really quite unnerving, as he lost his balance and fell on his arse.

That was nice, Seifer thought to himself, eyeing the spread legs and the way Irvine held himself up on his hands. He couldn't resist crouching over the assassin's lap, tongue running along his upper teeth.

"Howdy, Paris…" Seifer purred in a close imitation of his Texan drawl. "Fancy meetin' you here…"

"You know, people doin' that gets real old after a while…" Irvine replied coldly, then hissed as Seifer's hand pressed against the front of his pants.

"Let me show you just how _new_ I can be…" he murmured.

Irvine stared at him.

"You do know that was absolutely the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard in, like, all my born days, don't you?"

"Mmm…" was Seifer's only response and he leaned forward, nuzzling at Irvine's jawline.

Irvine let his eyes slip shut, thoughts flashing back to earlier. Assassin or not, he couldn't protect himself against a group like that, even if they'd given him time to get to his knife, which they hadn't. Maybe he needed Seifer's protection. Maybe he needed Seifer.

He hated needing anyone.

He growled and fisted his hands in Seifer's singlet, intending to push him off, but the blonde had gone suddenly still and very quiet. He lowered his weight to settle in Irvine's lap, mouth now against his shoulder, and he suddenly bit there, making Irvine cry out and thrash. He held on until Irvine felt blood well, then he finally let go.

"Why the _fuck_ do you smell like that little dip-cock, Ink?!"

Irvine smirked, showing his tongue between perfect teeth, and touched the blood at his shoulder with two fingers, then brought them to his mouth to lick it off.

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

Seifer fisted both hands around the shoulder straps of the singlet, ramming Irvine down onto his back.

"You've got to be fucking kidding. You mean that fucktard's been up in _my_ shit?! And you _let him_?!"

Irvine shrugged his bitten shoulder, then grunted when Seifer jerked him up and slammed him down again.

"The ice you're on doesn't _get_ any thinner, Paris. I'm gonna fucking kill you, then I'm gonna fucking kill him, and fuck anyone who gets in my damn way!"

"Jade?"

The single word was like a rat dancing before a rattle snake. Seifer pushed off Irvine and had Zell pinned against the wall, forearm at his neck, before the guard even had time to yelp. In fact, he coughed when Seifer pressed hard enough to make breathing difficult.

"He's soaked in you, Zell. _Drenched_. He _reeks_ of you! I don't care if you think you're king-fucking-dick-on-a-stick, you _know_ you don't get to touch him. You know it! And what? You think maybe it's okay because I wasn't around to stop you?!"

"Jade, I didn't-"

"Shut your fucking mouth!" Seifer growled, and back-handed Zell across the face.

The guard had let him vent up until that moment, but that was just taking it too far and he wouldn't stand for it. He pushed Seifer bodily away and let fly with a graceful roundhouse kick that connected solidly with the other man's shoulder and sent him crashing to the floor.

Irvine watched with his head cocked a little to one side.

"You're behaving like a hormonal fucking teenager, Jade! Will you shut up for _five seconds_ and at least let me explain some things?!"

"What's to explain?!" Seifer growled back, sitting up.

"He's just wearing my shirt, that's _all_."

"_All_?!" Seifer echoed, fisting his hands and surging off the floor. Zell didn't let him get very far, planting a foot against his chest and pushing him back down.

"Shit happened, Jade. Your little would-be bitch there almost became some gang-bangers' _bitch_. They shredded his shirt, so I gave him mine! I _thought_ he'd just go change." He cut his eyes to the assassin, but Irvine only shrugged.

"I got sidetracked in the library."

"Gang bangers?" Seifer saw even more red, if that was possible. "Who?"

"We ain't tellin' you," Irvine said flatly before Zell could say anything. "If anyone's goin' to kill them, it'll be me."

"No one's going to kill them," Zell said, wiping a little blood from his mouth courtesy of the back-hand.

"…Sorry…" Seifer muttered as though saying the word physically hurt him.

Zell had to laugh. It was just too funny. Seifer rarely apologised, only when it was really deserved, and even then it was difficult for him. Seifer definitely struggled with 'sorry'. It wasn't long before Irvine was snickering too, and Seifer continued to scowl at them as they all went to dinner.

- - - - - - -

"Ink… Ink! _Ink_, for fuck's sake! Wake _up_!" A bullet from a standard-issue hand gun thocked into his temple and he hissed, lifting his head from the tangle of blankets and Javier's long limbs.

"What the hell time is it, and why the fuck is a guard swearing like that…?" Zell muttered.

"Because it's _me_, and I always swear." A torch shone in his face and Zell scrunched his eyes closed, Javier groaning beneath him and trying to burrow deeper.

"Ah… fuck… Javier, baby… Don't move that leg like – Nn… _Skid_, wake up!"

Javier blinked open bleary eyes and looked owlishly up at him, then into the torch beam. The giggles behind it made it pretty obvious who was there. The boy whined and buried his head under the covers.

"Either turn it off, or get it up your arse, Kitty…" Zell growled.

She didn't turn it off, but she moved it aside so it wasn't shining directly into his eyes. Eoko stood with her, tapping her thigh with her nightstick and he just _knew_ her eyes were roving his bared chest.

"That's not nice, Inky-poo," Kitty said with a pout.

Javier snickered.

"Shut up, both of you," Zell growled. "What do you want? Why are you waking me up at fuck knows what time of the night?!"

"If you're not going to be polite, we won't tell you, and you can keep putting up with Jade's absolute bitchiness for another few _years_…" Eoko threatened.

"You got the chocolate!" Zell cried, hopping out of bed completely naked and scurrying over to the bars, putting his hand through them. "Give. Give!"

"Say sorry," Kitty pouted, shining the torch at his groin.

"Do you mind?"

"Oh! Sorry!" she piped and jerked it upwards as though it had been an accident. The giggles said otherwise.

"Right… Hand it over, Perv," Zell said, crooking his fingers.

"Not until you apologise for being an arse," she replied, waving several bars of chocolate just out of his reach.

Zell rolled his eyes, but he sighed.

"Alright. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to swear at you, it's just Seifer's being such a dickhead, it's pissing me off. Hopefully this will help," he said. Eoko dropped the bars into his hand and he pulled her close to press a kiss to her forehead. "Thanks."

"Me! Me! I bought some too!" Kitty protested.

"C'mere, then," Zell said with a chuckle, drawing her against the bars to give her the same treatment. She beamed up at him. "You're so damn short," he added, smirking.

She scowled at him.

"So are you!"

"You're shorter than me!"

"I'm a _girl_."

"You're a woman," Javier said gallantly from the bed.

"Aww, thanks Skiddles!" she replied, grinning.

"No, she really isn't…" Zell muttered, and suffered Sephiroth across his shoulder for his trouble. "Ow! Fuck!"

"Be nice!" she demanded with an exaggerated pout as he backed away out of range.

He just snarled at her.

"Turn that light out and go away…" he begged.

"You owe us for the chocolate, Inky-poo," Kitty pointed out gleefully, then turned on her heel and flounced off, giggling all the way. Eoko tipped her hat, then sauntered off after her partner, twirling her nightstick.

"Fuck!" he hissed again, gingerly touching his shoulder. He lifted a gorgeous poster of the Japanese popstar, Gackt and pulled a brick out of the wall behind it. In here, he stashed the chocolate, then replaced brick and poster and slipped back into bed.

"Here, let me see…" Javier whispered, kneeling up and stroking a hand along Zell's shoulder. He pressed his lips gently to the spot and Zell growled, pain very soon forgotten.

- - - - - - -

"Whatcha got there, Ink?" Rikan asked the next day as Zell made a beeline for Seifer across the yard.

"Nothing for you, Lock. Sorry," he said, grinning good-naturedly.

"Maybe you could have something for me later…?" Rikan suggested, giving the guard a heated look from under his eyelashes.

Zell smirked, half-closing his own eyes and tucked his fingers in the waistband of Rikan's pants, pulling him close and licking briefly at his ear.

"We'll see what we can do about that…" he purred, then released the thief and continued off across the yard.

"Whore," Seifer growled as he approached.

"Yeah, but he has a hot little arse…" Zell replied.

"I was talking about you…"

The guard just grinned and sidled up to the inmate as Seifer took a long drag on his cigarette.

"Got something for you, Jade… Something I just know you're dying for. Something you'll owe me big time for…"

"I'll never owe you, Ink. I'm too high on the ladder, and you know it."

Zell smiled infuriatingly, making Seifer want to hit him, then he held out his hands, in which lay several different varieties of chocolate bar. A slow grin spread across the taller blond's face and he took the chocolate, then hugged Zell tight.

"You're gorgeous!"

"Yeah, I know," Zell said, grinning.

"So modest, too," Seifer said with a snort.

"Who needs to be modest when you're as fucking good as I am?" Zell replied, and sauntered off.

Seifer scanned the yard and spied Irvine playing poker with a couple of other inmates. They were wagering cigarettes, and the assassin had amassed quite a nice little pile. It didn't surprise Seifer – the man had an expression like granite.

"'Scuse me for interrupting, boys, but I need to see Paris," he said as he walked over.

The man himself didn't move, but the others all stood, scooped up their cigarettes and hurried off.

"You really gotta ruin my fun like that?" Irvine sighed, gathering up his own winnings and making a pouch for them out of the front of his singlet. He turned and headed for their cell, obviously to stash the smokes. That didn't bother Seifer. He wanted to go there anyway.

"I've got a present for you, Paris…" Seifer said lowly as they entered the cell.

"If it involves your cock shoved down my throat, I ain't fuckin' interested."

"What if it was covered in chocolate…?" Seifer purred as Irvine straightened, having put the cigarettes under his mattress. He pressed against the assassin's back and before Irvine could even try and push him off, he held out one of the chocolate bars in front of his nose.

The redhead actually _groaned_.

"How do you feel about my cock down your throat now, hmm…?"

"Give me the chocolate…" His eyes followed it as Seifer waved it back and forth, his other hand slipping up under the front of Irvine's singlet.

"Open it," Seifer suggested against his ear, nipping at the lobe. Irvine reached up and tried to take it out of Seifer's hand, but the blond held on, only allowing the assassin to open the wrapper. He tried to take it again, but Seifer still held on.

"Jade…" Irvine muttered. "Don't fuckin' tease me…"

"You've been teasing me since you got here. It's about damn time the shoe was on the other foot… Taste it. I know you want to."

Irvine slid his eyes to the side, glancing at Seifer, who smirked at him. He closed his eyes and parted lips and teeth and the blond laid the chocolate against his lower teeth. He took a bite and rolled it around in his mouth, giving a soft moan and melting in Seifer's arms.

"So good…" he whispered, turning his head when Seifer nosed at his cheekbone. The blond's lips sought his and for once, he didn't fight it. His hand was warm against the assassin's stomach and his mouth was hotter than Irvine could believe. His tongue dipped and Irvine shivered, his own running along it.

After a moment, Seifer broke the kiss and took a bite of the chocolate himself, let it melt a little, then offered it to Irvine on his tongue. The assassin turned in his arms and smirked, opening his mouth and closing his lips around Seifer's tongue to take the chocolate.

He was losing control, losing his deep-seated cool demeanor, but he couldn't stop it. Seifer's heat was wrapped around him, that blazing fire behind jade eyes burning down to his soul, and he whimpered when those strong fingers dipped slightly down the back of his pants.

"Mr. Almasy." It was polite, if a little disgusted, but Seifer growled savagely and turned a glare fit to freeze lava on the poor guard who'd been sent to get him.

"What?!" he snarled. The man shrank back.

"It… it's time for your session with Miss. Trepe…"

"_Fuck_ Miss. fucking Trepe! Tell her I'm _busy_!"

"I… I can't… sir…" he replied.

Irvine snickered at the fact that a guard was calling an inmate sir.

Seifer swore hotly again, words Irvine wasn't even sure he knew the meaning of, and stalked over to the guard, towering over him until he turned and went off at a trot. Seifer glanced back at Irvine, then tossed him the rest of the chocolate bar before he continued off.

Irvine spent the next half hour on his bunk, enjoying every second of the chocolate.

- - - - - - - -

AN: I promise to try and get the next chapter out next week. ' Oh, and the title... Yeah, it's an offence in Canada. Wait til I get to the really juicy chapters. -snickers-


	9. Conspiracy to Murder

_**For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge.**_

_ A Kitty and Eoko Collaboration Fic._

Warnings: All the good stuff.

Disclaimer: Don't own FF8 or make money off this fic.

Parings: Duh.

Author's Notes:

_Kitty: AUTHOR'S NOTES NAOW!_

Eoko: -ooks up from Harvest Moon-

_Kitty: -hangs from Eoko's head- AUTHOR'S NOTES!_

Eoko: I heard you the first time. Hey Kitty! Should I ask the reviewers for their e-mails so I can invite them to the retarded game too?

_Kitty: Is it retarded? Then I should stop the sign up process, right...?_

Eoko: NO! I HAVE TEN ACCOUNTS! IT'S EPIC .

_Kitty: -giggles- I wanna make a Sephiroth one._

Eoko: My zelley account has a Seifer.

_Kitty: YES I DID IT!_

Eoko: WOO!

_Kitty: Okay, we better let them read now._

Eoko: Agreed. And if they wanna know what we're raving about, they can leave their e-mails. lol

_Chapter 10 – Conspiring to Murder._

"Hello, ladies and gentlemen!" came an exuberant cry from the entrance to the cell block. There stood Kitty Andreas and next to her Eoko Kemony. A number of inmates turned from their business to look at the young women, those that knew their voices had already turned their attention to the clock above their heads instead. That wasn't right…

Eoko grinned broadly, arms loosely crossed just under her chest. "Transfer, pals. You'll be seeing us a lot more." She grinned wider as shudders and groans spread through the populace.

"Four to midnight! Fun, huh?!" Another shudder. Kitty beamed as Zell approached the two of them. "Hi, Inky-poo."

"No."

"Yes." She beamed even brighter.

"Schedule change? Who called for that?" he asked, one foot crossed over the other and hand on his hip.

"Well, kinda all 'round," Eoko replied. "Boss man thinks we got a good way with you guys. Wanted us to take on a shift with more interaction, right?"

"Yea! And we were all 'hm, you know, that's great!' cause Eoko and I were just saying the other day that no one is really fucking after midnight anyway since you all gotta get up at, like, seven- yuck. So we're all hyped about changing to an earlier shift!"

Eoko nodded and grinned. "Yep. Can get a few glimpses at the afternoon sex too. Always wondered 'bout that." Her grin grew. "Just a quickie, or do you take the time to enjoy yourselves?"

Zell eyed her warily. "You'll find out, won't you?" he said, rolling his eyes. "At least you won't be waking me up at who-knows-what hour and shining your torches on my crotch."

"We know it loves being in the spotlight, Ink."

"Shut up, Perv. Get back to work. I have to go warn the others that the apocalypse is upon us." He smirked as Kitty stuck out her tongue at him. Then he turned, strutting down the aisle to inform Derek, Joseph and the rest that doom was about to befall the prison, or at least insane voyeurs.

- - - - - - -

Derek and Joseph hadn't cared much about the girls, as Zell had figured. Joseph for one didn't partake in any sexual acts in the prison, and Derek only when the urges couldn't go ignored or be drowned out with a good brew. They didn't have to worry about two perverted young women watching their personal lives.

The last three elites weren't as thrilled with the idea. They all were quite well acquainted with Eoko and Kitty already, and an even closer relationship would be just… _lovely_.

Illo and Raphael had glanced at each other, lips pressed tight together. It was just annoying. It was bad enough when you knew there were two extra sets of eyes on you while you were getting into it, but the giggling and running commentary that sometimes came with it was enough to make you want to take a hit out on those two particular guards.

It was only the facts that Eoko and Kitty were nice and tried to help, and that they brought lotions, oils and condoms if you were particularly compliant or nice to them. Stupid guards…

Not that Zell minded, and everyone inside the prison knew it. He was a little kink and a full fledged exhibitionist. He just gave Eoko and Kitty a hard time because he could. Everyone was well aware how much he enjoyed an audience. The banter between him and the guards was like a game. The best part of that was he took most of the girls' attention away from the rest of the inmates, at least for their viewing pleasures.

Irvine had been reading one of Seifer's books when Zell brought the news to their cell. He'd paused in the reading to listen to what had to be said, the proceeded to drop the novel and stare over the side of his bunk.

Seifer's eyes lifted to his and made a face. He'd been so close to getting a piece of that sweet arse, had had the hitman willing in his arms and almost in his bed, but now there were even more complications. Irvine would not appreciate-

"I ain't never comin' down from here. Fuck, they're worse than the men. Bloody perverts. They ain't, like, ever seein' me do nothin'!" With that he glared at the cell in general and went back to his book and mental grumblings.

"S'not so bad," Zell purred toward him, then smirked at Seifer and the glare directed his way. "Oh, pu-lease, Jade, you know you're into it. You love showing them you're the best, that you're the most confident and can fuck anyone you want well."

The glare quickly turned into a satisfied grin. Stroking his ego was always a good way to get him out of his stupid, possessive little mood he'd been slipping into as of late. "Well, I _am_ a very good lover," he said, glancing up at Irvine's bunk to see if he was paying attention.

"Yes, you are," Zell said, voice a purr once again, then dropped the tone. "But I ain't getting any from you since "cowboy-toy" moved in so I think I'll head off."

Seifer noted mentally that he wasn't getting _any_ period since "cowboy-toy" moved in, but that was his own choice. Claiming the assassin would be a great achievement in more ways than one, while Zell was just another day in the cell block- not a bad day mind you, quite a good day actually, but he wasn't new anymore. Still… there was that thing he could do with… ah, that was always good…

- - - - - - -

Zell left Seifer to moon over the hitman and headed down the aisle, stopping in front of an open cell past his own. He leaned against the bars, arms crossed loosely over his chest and grin on his face.

He walked in without being noticed, let alone with an invitation, and settled himself onto the bunk the inmate was leaning against. Said inmate was currently too occupied at the moment to notice the blond behind him. It would be dangerous to allow one's guard down so much inside prison walls, but some people just didn't get into much trouble, so they never got into fights or had to worry about having their throat slit.

Zell let his legs fall to either side of the other man's body and snaked his arms over his shoulders to curl around his chest. He smirked as the man started then relaxed. He leaned down to whisper into one ear. "Enjoying your game, Lock?" Zell nipped once at Rikan's earlobe then looked over his shoulder at the small television screen.

Rikan smiled a little and nodded. "Yep. I figure by the time I get a hundred percent I'll be outta here. Plus, I'll have made the most accurate and extensive guide ever! Not even Square-Enix will be able to one up me!"

"But Lock, they made Final Fantasy X-2. They know it all."

"Nah, I'll find a bug or two they missed. They just make the game. They don't have over a decade to test it."

"Well, that's certainly true. But you got other games too. Any luck on getting other endings on Shadow of Destiny?" (1)

Rikan made an annoyed noise in the back of his throat. "Still just the one where he gets eternal youth and amnesia, and the one where he gets run over. Funny shit, that one. Don't mind getting it, but the other one's more common I think. Stupid game. I'll get all the endings though. You just watch, Ink."

"Oh, I believe you, Lock. You have plenty of time to do it."

"Yea, I do. Lots of time. So, what's up? Why you come to see me?"

Zell let his hands roam over Rikan's chest. "Are you complaining, Lock? If you are I could always leave and let you play your game in peace. And here I thought you liked when I came to see you." Zell feigned hurt in his voice, but the grin never left his face.

"I'm not complaining!" Rikan protested quickly. "And course I like when you come see me."

"That mean you're going to save that game of yours and show me how much you like it when I _cum_, Rikan?" Zell purred in his ear and it took everything the thief had in him to save his game before turning it off.

The second that was done he turned and pounced the blond, pushing him onto his back on the bunk and hovering over him, grin spread wide across his face. "Been a while, Ink. You got a-"

"Yea, front pocket. Why don't you grab it for me, cop a feel while you're at it." Zell smirked beneath the taller man. "I see you didn't forget the rules." He chuckled a little.

"Hell no. And risk certain death from Seifer 'Possessive Bastard' Almasy. Thanks, but I'll pass. I can handle not kissing that mouth of yours and wearing a rubber if it saves my neck or my cock."

"Or both, considering it's Seifer. Good to see you haven't lost your sense. Now come on. Let's do this."

- - - - - - -

Some time later Irvine cocked a brow and glanced over the side of his bunk at Seifer who was glowering and mumbling just shy of coherently. The assassin lifted himself onto one elbow and gave him a questioning look. "What exactly is pissin' you off _now_?" he asked, the babble irritating him to the point he could focus on nothing else, let alone a book.

It took a few moments for Irvine's question to make its way into Seifer's preoccupied head, but when it did he finally shut up. "Ink," he mumbled and looked out towards the aisle, still glaring ominously.

"… he's not even here," Irvine said, cocking a brown, then the other when sounds that had previously been muffled by the blond's ramblings floated to his ears. "Oh." He grinned. "Oh, I see. Your little fuck toy's, like, gone off to play with someone else."

The way Seifer's brows furrowed further as he turned his head sharply towards the hitman was priceless. Irvine couldn't stop his grin from spreading a bit wider.

"So, Mr. Sex God. Why's your little whore fuckin' around?" He paused a moment to listen to a particularly noticeable sound and smirked. "Doesn't sound like he's playin' with his own little bitch, Jade."

"I know," Seifer ground out between clenched teeth. "He's fucking around with that shithole, Lock. Just like he does every time he feels particularly charitable. _And_ I'm a bit _busy_."

"Last I checked, the only thing you was busy doin' was starin' at my arse. And that, like, weren't getting' you nowhere neither." ((.. Grammar anyone? lmao)) Irvine drew the book around in front of himself again in order to pretend to read while enjoying Seifer's little fit.

"Well last time _I_ checked, Paris, I had my tongue down your throat and the taste of chocolate tantalizing the senses further." The frustrated expression had left his face and was replaced by his trademark smirk. "And you weren't complaining, as far as I could tell."

Irvine bristled slightly, then relaxed. "Big words there, Jade. Hurt yourself much?"

Seifer opened his mouth to comment but was interrupted by a cheerful giggle at his cell door and the sound of a night stick dinging across the bars.

"Phone call, Mr. Almasy," Kitty Andreas sang while Eoko stood grinning beside her and fastening the baton back into its place on her duty belt.

"Come on, Seifer. Not often you get calls cleared at all period, let alone incoming calls. Get off your arse. Let's go." Eoko grinned wider and held out her arm as if offering it to Seifer. Kitty latched onto it instead and the two of them led the mobster down to take his call.

- - - - - - -

"Fuck!"

The curse traveled down the cell block faster than the person's feet could carry them, and Irvine was already sitting up and waiting to inquire as to what had angered the tall blond further.

Seifer was still uttering a steady stream of curses when he was let back into the cell. Upon seeing the assassin's raised brow, and noting the disappearance of the guards, he glared and explained- or, gave as much of an explanation as he was going to.

"The boys can't get a hold of my best assassin."

Irvine's brow arched a little further up. "And what's your assassin called?"

The mob boss looked up at the hitman, hoping maybe he'd heard some news about someone in his "profession" that wasn't "public" knowledge yet. He knew enough about code names to not even bother asking for a real name.

"Eve."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

1. In the local prisons inmates are allowed to have up to 500 worth of things in their cells. Guards like when they have video games because they stay in their cells and play all day. One correctional officer even said that. A prisoner I met during a lecture in Crim 105 was actually in the middle of FF8 and in the Lunatic Pandora. lmao


	10. Unlawful Sodomy

_**For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge.**_

_ A Kitty and Eoko Collaboration Fic._

Warnings: All the good stuff. The REALLY good stuff. I'm talkin' lemon here. Oh, and there's a lot of swearing... a lot.

Disclaimer: Don't own FF8 or make money off this fic.

Parings: Duh.

Author's Notes:

_Kitty: Wooooooo! Manifest went off!_

Eoko: Woooo, Koko is sick. --

_Kitty: I'm getting sick, I think._

Eoko: Fail for sicknesses!

_Kitty: Totally. But win for tidied rooms. _

Eoko: Clean rooms are win?

_Kitty: Definitely. _

Eoko: Okay If you say so.

_Kitty: ON to the fic! _

_Chapter 11 – Unlawful Sodomy._

"Eve?" Irvine repeated, both brows lifting almost level with his hairline. "_Eve_?"

"Yeah…" Seifer replied, climbing up to stand on the lower bunk and folding his arms on Irvine's mattress. "Know her?"

"Her…?" the hitman echoed again, lifting his eyes to the ceiling.

"Well, you know, with a name like E- Why the fuck am I explaining myself to _you_? Do. You. Know. Her?"

"Eve… Eve…" Irvine mused, tapping his lower lip. "There was that job…" He dropped his eyes to Seifer's again, opened his mouth, then grinned and shook his head. "Sorry. Never heard the name."

"Arsehole!" Seifer snarled. "You do _not_ get to yank my chain like that, Princess!"

"Darlin'…" Irvine purred, lowering his lashes. "I just did…"

That white-hot anger flared in Seifer's eyes again, stoked by Ink, the phone call, and finally fanned out of control by Irvine's behaviour. Muscle flexed as he swung himself up onto Irvine's bunk and straddled the hit-man. Irvine curled his lip as though Seifer were little more than dog-shit stuck to his shoe, and lifted his nose, looking aloofly down it. The knife came out of its hiding-place and he pressed it to Seifer's throat.

"Back off," he snarled.

"Kill me. I dare you," was Seifer's icy-hot reply.

"I will. I do it every damn day – twice on Sundays."

"Then do it. I'm in here for life anyway. What do I fucking well care? You're the one that'll suffer for it, fish. Every damn wolf in this prison will be after your tail, and Ink can't protect you every minute of every day…"

As if on cue, the guard cried out wordlessly, then fell back into the low sounds they'd been hearing previously.

"I can look after myself…"

"Like you did with those gang-bangers? They'll get you next time, Paris…"

Irvine glanced away briefly, and that was all the mob boss needed. His hand flashed up and he snatched the knife out of Irvine's hand. When the hit-man reached for it, he grabbed his wrists and pinned them above his head with his free hand.

"Fuck off, Jade," the red-head growled warningly, breath coming in pants.

Seifer smirked.

"You turned on, Paris…?" he whispered, running a fingertip along Irvine's lips, the blade glinting close to the hit-man's cheekbone.

"You wish," was the snarled reply.

"Fucking _liar_!" Seifer laughed, his hand stroking down to cup the front of his cellmate's pants. "Someone doesn't lie, though…" he purred.

"_Fuck off_!" Irvine almost screamed. "I don't need you! I don't need no-one!"

"Shh, baby… Shh, sweetheart…" Seifer murmured, running his hand under the bottom of Irvine's singlet. He flipped the knife so the handle rested in the webbing between thumb and pointer and the blade was upward. As his hand stroked up Irvine's middle, the keen weapon parted the cotton as easily as it would have parted butter.

"Jade…" Irvine growled.

Seifer pushed the parted material aside and bent, touching his tongue to the head of the rattle-snake tattoo then dipping it into the hit-man's navel. Irvine clenched his teeth and refused to react, though his body was clamouring at him to stop being an idiot and let the man fuck him.

"You'll enjoy it, sweetheart. I swear you will… Relax…" Seifer whispered against his stomach, making him twitch. "I know you want me…"

"You… you wish," Irvine hissed, then failed to bite back a sharp 'ah!' as the blonde bit him and began to suckle. "No… fuckin'… _way_, J-Jade! You c-can't…"

After a long moment, Seifer lifted his head, surveying his handiwork.

"Darlin'…" he purred in a very close imitation of Irvine's drawl. "I just did…"

"Fuck!"

"I plan to."

"Bastard!"

Suddenly, Seifer was gone and Irvine blinked at the unsuspected move. Before he had time to fully compute his freedom, however, the mob-boss was back, knife still in hand.

"Slow, for an assassin," Seifer murmured.

"Will you just fuck off?!" Irvine cried, then made a surprised sound when, at the last syllable, a square of chocolate was popped in his mouth.

"Look what I brought you. Say thank you…" Seifer murmured, sliding the remains of Irvine's singlet completely off.

The hit-man suddenly shuddered and went limp, eyes rolling shut and body stretching in a mind-blowingly sensual arch. Seifer blinked then looked at the chocolate in his hands. Apparently, he had found Irvine's favourite, and there was something amusingly appropriate about it. Dark chocolate.

Irvine licked his lips and opened his eyes, looking hungrily up at Seifer. The blonde stroked his hand across Irvine's chest, thumbing a pierced nipple and he shivered.

"Under all that ice, you're pretty damn responsive, aren't you, Kitten?" Seifer said speculatively, cutting off another square of chocolate and putting it between willingly parted lips and teeth. Irvine closed his lips over the square and the two fingers that put it there, curling his tongue around them and teasing them shamelessly. The mob-boss actually swallowed.

The hitman didn't care anymore. It wasn't just the chocolate, it was everything about the man. He was sex on legs and even Irvine couldn't resist forever. He was proud of himself for having resisted thus far.

_Anyway,_ he reflected musingly. _I were already servicin' him all that time – ain't that just too ironic for words? – so why not service him now…?_

"Jade…" Irvine murmured, a slow smirk curving his lips. "I know why your boys ain't been able to get in touch with Eve."

"You fucking well said you didn't know her!" Seifer growled, but he didn't sound convincing and his hand stroked up Irvine's side.

"Darlin', I know 'her' very well. You're sittin' on 'her'."

Seifer stared, his hand stilling.

"You're…?"

"In the flesh, Blondie. Never knew I were workin' for none other than Seifer Almasy, among others… Bit of a stroke to my ego. Your _best_ you say…?"

"Obviously not," was the muttered reply. "Since here you fucking are in jail. And what in the hell was that shit with Tyrone Parker? I said suicide, not explosion!"

"Ah… so now I know which contact is yours. You're my best customer, too. And 'that shit' with Parker was perfectly legit. It ain't my fault if no fuckin' copper were familiar with Sylvia Plath. Gas leak…" he scoffed. "I made it look like the cocksucker had stuck his head in the gas oven and lit a match."

"Sylvia Plath…?"

Irvine rolled his eyes.

"Never mind."

"Shut up. Have some more chocolate…" Seifer suggested, pressing a square to Irvine's lips. He grinned and opened his mouth gladly accepting the treat and relaxing into the bed as Seifer sat up again to pull his singlet off.

Irvine let out a slow breath and his lips curved in a smile as he reached up to run his hands down Seifer's front, fingertips tracing defined muscles. The man was true perfection; Adonis stepped out of Greek myth and into Irvine's bed.

"You're fuckin' amazin'…" the assassin sighed when he finished his chocolate.

"I've been trying to tell you that since you got here. But in case you forgot, you kept telling me you 'didn't need me'." They both knew he was fishing for the meaning behind that statement, but Irvine's gaze grew guarded and his jaw clenched. It piqued Seifer's curiosity, but not to the point where he wanted to pursue it and risk losing the chance to fuck Irvine blind.

The blonde smirked after a long moment and brought the knife around, working it under Irvine's hair-tie and cutting through it.

"Hey!" Irvine groused, fishing in his masses of hair until he pulled out the pieces of ruined tie. "You could have just undone it."

"Oh, get over it. I know you've got a thousand of the bastards."

"Yeah, but this was my favourite." In truth, it was just the one he'd happened to grab out of the bag of them.

"Right," Seifer said, letting his disbelief show.

Irvine chuckled, then hissed slightly as Seifer bent and blew gently over a nipple. At that reaction, the mob boss smirked and took one of the shining rings between his teeth, tugging a little before closing his lips around the nipple. Irvine let his eyes fall shut and he moaned softly, hands curling into loose fists. He couldn't and wouldn't deny that one of the reasons he'd had the piercings done was because they made an already sensitive area more sensitive still, and the gold hoops drew the attentions of any lover to that area.

"You like that, do you…?" Seifer purred, cupping the front of Irvine's pants and rubbing gently.

"Which…?" Irvine wondered breathlessly, then gave a low cry when Seifer transferred his mouth to the other nipple. "That? Oh… oh, yeah…"

"I thought so…" the blonde growled.

Irvine pressed his hands against Seifer's back as the skilful tongue and teeth teased each nipple, varying the time spent and what he was doing so the assassin was always taken by surprise. He was soon writhing, fingers digging mercilessly at Seifer's back.

"Jade…" he panted. "Jade!"

The second cry echoed slightly off the near-bare walls of their cell, and Seifer took a fierce pride in knowing the other inmates couldn't fail to understand what was happening. He was taking what he'd claimed – driving the ice-cold Paris to utter white-hot melting point.

He was going to make the man scream for him…

He backed off a little and let Irvine take a moment to calm himself so he could cut another square of chocolate. This time, he deposited it in his own mouth and let it melt a little. When Irvine opened his eyes, obviously wondering what was happening, his cell-mate smirked and swooped, kissing the other man fiercely. Whether he tasted the chocolate yet or not, Seifer wasn't sure, but the elegant mouth opened instantly for him, the body beneath him going still more pliant and submissive as his tongue plunged in a dominant, claiming movement. Irvine whimpered and his tongue ran against Seifer's, seeking out the chocolate and the man.

The kiss grew hungrier as seconds passed and the chocolate disappeared. Irvine's fingers came into Seifer's hair and he made tiny sounds that caused his cell-mate's blood to boil.

"You're sexy as hell, Paris. Just _looking_ at you makes me hard…" Seifer growled against Irvine's mouth when they briefly parted for air.

"I know," was the instant reply, then the assassin was pulling his mouth back down.

Seifer didn't let him have control for long. He broke the kiss and licked a path down Irvine's front, gratified when the assassin merely lay there and twisted on the sheets. It surprised Seifer that someone in Irvine's line of work would be so willingly submissive. _Miss Lens would have a field day with that…_ he thought, then made a face and quickly pushed all thought of any woman out of his mind.

The mob-boss rested on his elbows, placing the blade of the knife against the buttons of Irvine's fly, waiting until the assassin came back to himself enough to work out what was going on.

"You're not-" he started, but broke off when Seifer did indeed cut the threads holding the button to the jeans. "Jade!"

Seifer smirked and moved the knife down, watching Irvine closely as he cut the next button free.

"I have to wear these!" Irvine protested and made a snatch for the knife, but Seifer jerked it out of the way, then with another deft movement, removed the third button. "_Jade_!" Another smirk, and the fourth and final button went the way of its predecessors.

"What…?" he said innocently.

"You want me to go 'round naked?" Irvine demanded, flicking one of the lost buttons at Seifer so that it bounced off his forehead.

The blonde tossed the knife aside and pounced, a hand pinning each of Irvine's wrists to the mattress.

"Yeah. At my heel, to bend over for me whenever I tell you to. And to like it." He dropped his voice to a purr, running his nose along Irvine's throat and jaw. "And you would, wouldn't you?"

Irvine swallowed, his eyes shivering shut as his fingers twitched against Seifer's back. He made no reply, but his reaction spoke for itself.

"I bet you like being spanked too…" Seifer continued in the same forbidden purr, easing his hand inside Irvine's jeans, under the prison-issue briefs and around his length. "Tied down and tortured with pleasure until your voice and cock weep for attention… Then fucked hard and rough until you scream like a common whore…"

"Jade…" Irvine whispered.

"Mmm… I thought so. Maybe next time, sweetheart. I don't have the patience this time." He brushed his thumb over the tip of Irvine's length and the assassin's hips bucked, his head tossing to the side. "And I don't think you do, either… Why did you fight me when you obviously wanted me so bad…?"

Seifer eased Irvine's pants down, pulling off his shoes and socks before tugging away the jeans and briefs so that his prey lay naked before him. He didn't think he had ever seen a man so beautiful, so made for being fucked.

"Ev… everyone kept… tellin' me… I should let you, like… fuck me… an' I don't take no… orders from no one… 'cept clients and… and… men like… you."

Seifer smirked, kicking off his own shoes and socks and wriggling out of his pants - he didn't like the briefs, so he generally just went without. He settled over Irvine again, stroking his hands down the assassin's uplifted arms.

"There _are_ no men like me… Remember that… No one fucks like _the_ Seifer Almasy…"

Irvine snorted, but lifted his body a little against Seifer's. He brought his hands down, stroking his fingers into the short blonde hair and gave a delightful little mewling when Seifer's hand returned to his length.

"Mmm… Jade…" he whispered, one leg bending at the knee so the thigh brushed along Seifer's hip.

"Seifer," the mob-boss corrected. "Should I call you Eve?"

"Fuck off…" Irvine replied lazily.

"I can think of better things to fuck…" was the growled reply and Seifer brought one hand around behind Irvine, two fingers teasing at his entrance.

He gave a soft gasp and arched reflexively, biting his lower lip and lifting his gaze to Seifer's. His belly flip-flopped at the heat in the jade eyes, emerald fire so hot he could it feel it burn against his skin wherever the blonde's gaze lit.

With a slight smirk, the mob boss reached under the mattress half-way down the bed and withdrew a little tube.

"I ain't never put that there…" Irvine remarked lazily.

"I did. Remember, this bunk used to be mine."

"Oh… mmm…" He nodded slightly, then turned his head aside and hissed when Seifer pressed a slicked finger within him. He squirmed delightfully and Seifer wrapped his other hand around the assassin's length, stroking him slowly in opposition to the hard working of his finger within. When Irvine started to calm a little, he added a second finger, licking his lips as he watched his new lover.

"You're so damn fuckable, Cowboy…" he murmured, licking along the assassin's lips from which spilt a soft, agreeable sighing.

"Then fuck me…" Irvine replied after a few long moments. "Stop playin'…"

"Giving me orders now, bitch…? I'm in charge here…" Seifer growled and, to make his point, rolled the assassin onto his stomach. He had enough thought for the man beneath him to tuck a pillow under Irvine's hips to free his length. Then he thrust his fingers deep within the red-head again, watching him arch and hug the pillow under his head.

"Hurry…" the assassin hissed, sending both Seifer's eyebrows into his hairline.

"Weren't you listening…?" He prowled over the long, lean killer, pressing his hips hard against the perfect arse and rolling them, teasing, teasing. "I'm in charge, and I'll fuck you when I'm good and ready."

"You… seem pretty ready to me, darlin'… Don't you… wanna be inside me…? Fuck, I want you there…"

"You do…?"

"Hell, yeah I do…"

"Tell me…"

"I want you inside've me…"

"Inside…?"

"Mmm…"

"Like this…?" Seifer pressed his fingers hard inside Irvine again, thrusting slowly with them. "Inside?"

Irvine actually whined, hands fisting and body twitching.

"Seifer… your cock…"

"Yes…?"

"I want your cock inside've me…" It was a whisper, harsh and fast. Every scrap of the iron control the assassin possessed was lost to him.

"Pardon?"

"I want your cock inside've me… please…"

A satisfied smirk curved the corners of the blond's mouth and he pressed a kiss to Irvine's ear as a reward then thrust into him in one swift stroke. He cried out and arched his hips, easing Seifer's entry. It was evident he'd done this many times before.

"Surprised you've got such… a tight arse," Seifer panted. "When you're obv-obviously such a whore…"

"Ha…" Irvine snorted back. "Th-then… Ink's arse must… be pretty… damn loose…"

"I don't fucking want you talking about that little bird-shit right now," the blonde snarled and, wrapping one hand around the assassin's hip and fisting the other beside his head, he began to thrust, hard and merciless.

Irvine gave a low, pleased cry and his eyes flickered shut, hips lifting to meet what thrusts he could. Seifer slid the hand up from his hip and into the masses of hair, moving his hand back just enough to pull it taught. The assassin gave a slight moan.

"You… can do better than… that…" Seifer hissed. "Moan for me…"

Irvine grit his teeth, groaning harshly through them as Seifer pulled a little harder on his hair. He hated it when lovers did that, but with the blonde, it only seemed to add to the pleasure. Another moan broke free of him, louder this time.

"Fuck…" the assassin panted, writhing. "Feels so… nn… good…"

"Yeah…? How good…?"

"So fuckin' good… Harder…"

Seifer chuckled but increased his pace, making low sounds from the back of his throat with nearly every thrust of his hips. Irvine went wild beneath him, arching and whimpering in a deep, husky tone.

But the mob-boss wanted more.

"Touch yourself, Irvine…" he purred into the man's ear. "I know… your cock's gotta… be begging for it…"

The assassin moaned and shifted his weight somehow under Seifer's relentless rhythm so he could bring a hand down to wrap around himself.

"Seifer…" he whispered as he began to stroke.

Their blood quickened, their bodies grew slick, Irvine's more pliant and Seifer's harder, stronger. They seemed to compliment each other in every way and, if they hadn't been so wrapped up in the pleasure that was quickly driving them mindless, they probably would have wondered at that.

When Seifer bit the shoulder of the man beneath him, jerking his hair hard enough to tilt his head back, he moaned desperately. When Seifer bit him again, low against the nape of his neck like a wolf claiming the she-wolf beneath him, the assassin gave him what he wanted and screamed his name. After that, it came easily, and now there couldn't be one inmate who didn't know Seifer Almasy was fucking Paris.

Irvine felt about to explode, his mind completely lost to him in the tidal wave of burning pleasure this man, this god was giving him. He'd never felt anything like it, never known any fuck to set him on fire like this. But he didn't have time to dwell on it because a shudder ran the length of his spine, then back up again and, with a final cry, his release broke over him.

Seifer was right behind him, sounding his pleasure with a long, low groan.

They lay panting for quite a while, then finally Seifer rolled onto his back behind the other man, an arm under his head as he contemplated the ceiling.

"I need a cigarette…" he decided after a long while, and Irvine snorted.

"Well fuck off back to your own bunk to have it, Blondie."

"What, you don't wanna share…?" Seifer purred, shifting onto his side and running a hand up Irvine's spine to finger the bite at the nape of his neck. He hissed and shifted a little, red-gold lashes flickering.

"I got my own," he replied sweetly.

Seifer snickered and climbed over Irvine, pressing briefly against his back before he made his way down the ladder and flopped into his own bunk. A slow smirk curved his lips and, suffice it to say, his dreams that night were very sweet indeed.

- - - - - - -

AN: Blame the title on Eoko. I originally called this chapter Carnal Knowledge, although it is not really an offence...


	11. Driving Under the Influence

_**For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge.**_

_~ A Kitty and Eoko Collaboration Fic._

Warnings: Emo chapter is emo. ALSO! More swearing. There is so much swearing in this fic...

Disclaimer: We don't own FF8, it belongs to Square, nor do we make any money off this fic.

Parings: Duh.

Author's Notes: Yeah, I was too lazy to get Eoko to add notes this time, plus it's really late... again. I's sorry.

_Chapter 12 – Driving Under the Influence._

"Hey, Jade," Zell greeted, leaning against the cell door.

"Ink."

"Man, you're the only one that can pull off being extremely pissed and extremely pleased at the same time."

"Not so hard when you're pissed at one thing, and pleased about another," Seifer said, only growling slightly.

"Is this about me and Lock yesterday?" the shorter man asked, stepping into the cell and over to Seifer's bunk. "It's not my fault, you know. Least not totally."

"If you wanted it _that_ bad you could have tried a little harder."

"Pu-lease. Why should I have to try so hard to get you to fuck me when Lock is four cells down, willing and ready?" Zell snorted and dropped down onto the mattress next to the mob boss, laying back and holding his weight up on his elbows.

Seifer turned around to glare at him. "I'm _better_ than that little shit is," he growl more evident this time.

"_You're_ only better than him when you're _actually_ going to fuck me. You were far more interested in Paris. Speaking of which, it looks like, feels like, and sounds like – from what I hear – that you finally banged cowboy-toy."

"Finally? Fuck finally. He hasn't been in here that long."

"You had me the first night I was in."

"_You_ were the one that offered, you little whore. It's not my fault you're such a slut or that I'm such a sex god." Seifer grinned over at the younger man.

"And so modest too. So, then, is word on the block right? You get a piece of that sweet, little arse you've been after?"

The grin became more prominent over Seifer's features. "Damn right I did. And damn was he good. Fuck, if you weren't so busy being such a slut you would have _heard_ him, and damn if he don't make the sexiest fucking sounds-"

"Screamer or moaner?" Zell inquired.

"Both. Damn, yeah. Both, and he always made the right one to drive me just that little bit further off the edge."

"That good, hm? That's interesting."

Seifer wheeled in an instant and pinned the guard down in the next second. "Fuck, no. I know that tone. You don't get a piece of him 'til I say so, understand?" And to emphasize his point he lifted Zell's shoulders slightly and slammed him back into the bunk.

Zell brought his hand across his body, under Seifer's, and used it to push the taller man off of him and away. "Fuck up, Seifer! You are bloody obsessed! How many bitches you had the last year, huh? I think I remember how it goes. Fuck," he sighed the last word, shaking his head.

"I get it, Jade. I been in here long enough to follow the rules you lay out, except the really stupid ones, so you can fucking stop reminding me what they are every time your cowboy-toy bitch comes up, you understand?" he shot back mockingly.

Seifer sneered at the pissed blond, then looked past him and out towards the hall. "Fuck. Yeah, yeah I get it. Am I being that bad?"

"Yeah, you are. But Paris _is_ the most gorgeous creature to step foot through those doors. He even beats Skid, just, and that's saying something coming from me."

"You and that little virgin boy."

"He _ain't_ a virgin _now_ and he _wasn't _a virgin when he came in. Fuck that's old."

"He still looks like a virgin."

"No, he looks innocent. And compared to ninety-nine point eight percent of the people around him, he is."

"Yeah, yeah. I don't care whether he was or not. He's like what now? Fifteen?" Seifer asked with a smirk.

Zell narrowed his eyes at the mob boss and sighed tiredly. These little quips really were old. "Twenty-two, and you know it."

"Cradle robber," Seifer said grinning.

"He's only three years younger than me. I ain't no cradle robber. Just because you said he was too young for you when he came in doesn't make him too young for me. Speaking of pretty, young things, where is your new bitch at? Not bowing down at your feet twenty-four seven yet?"

"He's older than you, I bet, and he ain't little. And I dunno where he is. He still doesn't like me."

"After that phenomenal fuck? I bow down to his restraint and willpower." Zell shifted his arms, crossing them behind his head and laying back on them. "Maybe he's playing hard to get. You're pretty hot when you're unbelievably pissed, if not a bit dangerous too."

Seifer cocked a brow then shook his head. "I found out his favorite chocolate."

"Yeah? How'd you manage that?"

"He almost had an orgasm when I shoved it in his mouth." Seifer grinned broadly.

Zell chuckled and tilted his head to look up at the taller man. "So romantic, Jade. So, which is it?"

"Opposite of yours."

"Dark?" the younger blond asked, then stuck out his tongue. "Fitting really. Dark for the criminal, white for the guard. Suppose you want more dark chocolate then." At Seifer's nod he shook his head and smiled.

"You could ask Perv and Giggles yourself, you know." He chuckled at the face Seifer pulled at the suggestion.

"Then they'd want to watch me and Paris, and I don't think he's interested in putting on a show. Unlike you and your little Skiddles-"

"Hey, only _I_ can call him Skiddles. And it's a good thing I found that little exhibitionist in him. Keeps the girls entertained so the rest of you can have some privacy."

"Only until they want a little variety and go lurking elsewhere."

"Well, Blaze and Prof put on a good show. And you and me could always give them an eyeful."

"You and _I_," came a voice to the side.

Zell grinned and turned to face the visitor. "Sorry, Giggles, but you just aren't my type."

- - - - - - -

"Hey," came a soft voice from his right, but Irvine made no motion to face said voice or even acknowledge it.

"I, um, heard you yesterday," the voice said, coming a little nearer but not too close.

"You and most of the cell block," the assassin retorted, still not looking at the younger man.

"Well, I suppose-"

"What do you want?"

"Oh, uh… well. I thought that since I'm Ink's and you're Jade's, and Ink and Jade are friends-"

"You thought us bitches could buddy up? Fuck that. I ain't Jade's bitch. I don't, like, belong to that arrogant motherfucker. He fucked me once, you hear me? Once. That don't make me his." Irvine turned a menacing glare on the other man.

Javier looked down at the grass and twisted the toe of his shoe into the green blades. "You didn't sound too unhappy with the situation…" he mumbled.

"Bein' happy with a fuck and with bein' someone's bitch aren't even close to the same thing. He's good, it was good. Whatever. You tellin' me you like bein' Ink's little piece of arse twenty-four seven?" Irvine crossed his arms and cocked a brow at the other inmate.

Javier looked up at him, face set in determination. "I am not his 'little piece of arse'. Ink protects me. He looks after me, takes care of me, cares _about_ me. And if I don't want to, then he won't."

Irvine rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Right. You're a regular, happy couple. I'm so sure. You think he sees it like that? He's just a slut. Sleeps with you when he feels like it, with Jade when he can beg his way into his bed, and who was it yesterday? Wasn't Lock poundin' your precious Ink into his bunk less than twenty-four hours ago?"

"Shut up! It's not like that! He has needs I can't fulfill. If it wasn't like this- if we weren't inside he wouldn't!"

"Oh sure. You'd be the perfect little pair of love birds if you were on the outside. That whore'd be two timing you in no time flat."

Without any warning, Javier's hand shot out from his side to strike Irvine across the face. The younger man stood staring, then jerked his hand back, looking at it like it was possessed.

The assassin turned on him and fisted his hands in his singlet. "Do you have _any_ idea what I'm in here for, you little shit?" he hissed, face less than an inch from the other man's.

"You're a hitman," Javier whispered, eyes shaking a little with fear and shining with unshed tears of worry.

Said hitman paused, staring at the dark haired inmate. "You _knew_ and you _hit_ me?"

"You deserved it, you arsehole!" Javier screamed and tried to struggle free of the assassin's grip. "Let me go!"

Irvine uncurled his fingers just as the younger man gave a particularly hard jerk of his body and smirked as he stumbled back, but just stopped himself from falling to the ground.

"I can't tell if you're, like, brave or just plain stupid." He glanced around, checking to see if any serious attention was being drawn to them, then glared at the idiot that had hit him.

"What is wrong with you? I'm trying to be friendly here. I get you work alone and shit but this isn't work. This is your life now and it's important to make friends in here."

"Make friends, bend over to Jade, put up with Captain Hardarse. It's all a bunch of bullshit. I don't need friends, the only thing Jade's good for is entertainment and destroying my clothes-"

"Wanna borrow a pair of mine?"

"What?"

"Do you want to borrow a pair of my stuff til you get issued another set? I'm sure Ink can get it pretty quick. But I'm probably closest to your size for now."

Irvine contemplated the offer. At the moment he was down to Ink's borrowed singlet and one pair of pants. Fucking Almasy ruining his clothing.

"Come on," Javier offered, heading back to the cell block. "What did he do to your clothes anyway?"

The assassin joined the dark haired man as they headed inside. "Tore my shirt off and cut the buttons off my pants-"

"Oh! Well I can mend those. The pants I mean. I do a bit of that in my spare time. Like Jade and his metalworking."

Irvine glanced over at the other inmate and cocked a brow. "You are so stereotypically gay."

Javier pouted at him, then reached out, grabbing his hand and tugging him into his cell. "Here we are," he said cheerily and left the hitman standing just inside the bars while he rummaged through his clothing.

The auburn haired inmate looked around the cell. It was obvious Javier had decorated and made himself at home. There was a poster of some pretty Asian guy and a few odds and ends on the desk that made it look more like a bedroom than a prison cell.

"What are you in for?"

Javier paused in his rummaging, staring down at the drawer of his and a few of Zell's things. It took him a long time to answer and when he did it was nothing but a whisper. "… I killed some people…"

"Yeah fucking right. You?"

The young man turned glistening eyes on the hitman. "It was an accident." His voice was almost pleading. "I'd been partying, drinking… I was driving home and I hit another car. A woman and her… her three year old daughter. Th-the woman, Tanya, died on impact... and Gwena died at the hospital…" that was all he could get out before he succumbed to his sobs and crumbled further onto his knees.

Irvine looked down at the younger inmate. "Hey, stop that. Stop crying like some baby," he said, voice cold and hard. When that did nothing to stunt the other man's sobs he sighed and looked around uncomfortably.

"Come on. It was an accident, you said so. So stop bawling over it."

"I-I… she was only three. I knew… I knew I had too much. I should never have tried t-to drive home." He buried his face in his hands and cried harder.

Irvine turned a little to look over his shoulder. No one was really around, most of them out in the yard. He sighed mentally and stepped closer to Javier, sinking down onto his knees.

"Hey," he said, voice warming from its usual tone. The assassin reached out and placed his hand on the dark haired man's shaking shoulder. "Hey now. Shh," he soothed. "You didn't mean it. It was an accident."

He blinked as the other inmate turned under his hand and in no time had wrapped his arms around his body and buried his tearstained face against his neck and shoulder. Irvine hesitated a moment more, then slowly wrapped his arms around Javier's body. He stroked one hand up and down his spine gently. "Shh… shh… easy there. You're okay. Yeah, good. Deep breaths… Shhh."


	12. Sexual Harrassment

_**For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge.**_

_~ A Kitty and Eoko Collaboration Fic._

Warnings: Li'l more emoness, but ther is some sex to balance it out. XD Lemon~

Disclaimer: We don't own FF8, it belongs to Square, nor do we make any money off this fic.

Parings: Duh.

Author's Notes: More laziness and lateness. -dies- I swear the next one will be in a week, at most, and I will get Eoko to contribute... _ You believe me... right?

_Chapter 13 – Sexual Harrassment._

Javier's fingers were twisted in his hair and his borrowed shirt, his tears damp on the assassin's neck, and Irvine was terrified that at any minute, someone would walk past. But he couldn't stand to leave the kid alone in this state. He continued to stroke Javier's back, letting him calm a little, then he shifted. Javier made a tiny sound and clutched tighter at him.

"Don't worry," Irvine soothed. "I ain't goin' nowhere. But my foot's goin' numb. Let's get you on the bed, okay?"

Javier just nodded and he allowed Irvine to stand him up and help him over to the bed, sitting him down. The assassin sat beside him and Javier half-curled into his lap, trembling.

"I'm… s-sorry… sorry… I-it… s-sometimes… just… just hi-its me…" Javier whispered as his tears began to dry up. "I… k-killed her… e-even before her… her life got started… I didn't mean to, I didn't _mean_ to, but I still… I… did it. I _did it_!"

"Javier…" Irvine murmured into his hair. "Shh… Javier… I know it's hard… but you're payin' now. And… and… What's her name…? Gwena…?" Javier nodded slightly. "Gwena'll be with you all your life. You'n Ink – Zell. You'n Zell can adopt a little girl who maybe wouldn't have a life if you didn't, and try to make up some for it that way. It was a mistake, a big mistake, but it was a mistake. Millions of kids drive when they've had to much. You just, like, drove the wrong way at the wrong time… And copped a judge with PMS, by the sound of it…"

Javier gave a damp chuckle.

"Wanted… to m-make an example o-f me…" he said hesitantly, relaxing his hold a little, but making no move to shift away.

- - - - - - -

"But you gotta teeell me what it was liiike…" Giggles was whining at Seifer when Zell left them, actually sitting on his knees and bouncing there. She was the only person in all of creation he knew of that would get away with bouncing on Seifer's knees.

"I don't gotta tell you anything, Giggles," Seifer replied, patting her head, and the tattooed guard chuckled, shaking his head as he walked away.

His sharp ears picked up on Paris' sultry tones in his cell before he could hear the words, and it made him hurry his steps. If that bastard was messing with Javier…

"…Ink – Zell. You'n Zell can adopt a little girl who maybe wouldn't…"

Zell stopped still about three seconds before he would have stepped into their view, and his eyes got wider and wider as the assassin went on. There was a current of sniffling underneath his words – Javier.

"But… b-but…"

"Shh…" Irvine murmured. "You're sorry for what you did, Jay. That's the _most_ important thing… It shows you ain't a cold, heartless bastard."

_Like me._

He didn't say the words, but they hung thick in the air, almost tangible.

"I don't think you're a cold, heartless bastard…" Javier whispered after a long silence. "You've been nice to me."

"Yeah…" Irvine said softly, then more harshly: "Yeah, and don't you go tellin' no one 'bout it or you'll find out how _un_-nice I can be."

Javier giggled.

"Un-nice isn't a word!"

"It are now."

"It _is_ now."

"I know it are."

The younger man was giggling again and Zell could only blink, totally shocked. Was this the same Paris? Surely it couldn't be. Surely the cold arsehole who'd been striding around their prison like he _owned_ it couldn't be the same one in there, teasing Javier _playfully_. The guard pinched himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming, and swore when it hurt.

"Zell?" Javier's voice enquired and Zell clapped a hand over his mouth, then realised he better make it look like he just rolled up.

"The one and on- Paris?" Zell said as he walked in, looking oddly at the assassin, who was leaning against a wall with one foot propped against it and a cigarette between his lips.

"The one and only," was the mocking reply.

"What are you doing here…?"

"Fuckin' your bitch, what's it look like?"

Zell fisted his hands, but Javier went to him and touched his chest.

"He was _not_…" the man said, rolling his eyes. "I'm lending him some clothes, since Jade made rags outta his. You know he cut the buttons off Paris' jeans?"

Zell smirked and gave a little snicker.

"_Zell_!" Javier cried rolling his eyes.

"Whore…" Irvine sneered at Zell, curling his lip.

"Ha, that's rich coming from the man who screamed so loud for Jade, it echoed off the walls and all the way down to the duty station."

Irvine smirked.

"You're just pissed 'cause it weren't you screamin' so loud for Jade, it echoed off the walls and all the way down to the duty station."

Zell was on him in a second, fisting a hand in his singlet and jerking him down to the guard's level. He was just about to snarl something nasty at Irvine when he copped a smack around the head.

"_Zell_! Back off!" Javier snapped. "What _is_ it with inmates and their pissing contests?! More than that, what is it with _you_ buying into them?! He's fucking _baiting_ you and if you're stupid enough to fall for it, then you're no better than some of the dickhead thugs that _belong_ in here!"

Zell let go of the assassin and both men stared at Javier, who glared at his lover, then turned to Irvine and smiled a little, handing over a set of clothes.

"Javier-" Zell started

The younger man ignored him and, in fact, spoke over him.

"Might be a little short in the legs, but it's better than nothing, right?" He glanced at Zell, then dragged Irvine outside the cell by his wrist, giving the blonde a warning look when he made to follow. "Listen, Irvine… I know you don't much like it, but… you oughtta be good to Seifer… He'll… he'll be good to you, if you are and… the others won't touch you…"

Irvine said nothing, only looked at him and Javier sighed, shaking his head. He glanced around, then hugged the assassin tightly, at which Irvine blinked and also looked hastily around. When he realised no one was around, he hugged Javier back, though very briefly, then stepped away from him, turned and sauntered off, stubbing his cigarette against a wall as he walked, then flicking the butt over the rail so it fell to the floor below.

"Am I missing something?" Zell enquired when Javier returned, elbow against the top bunk and hand in hair. His singlet clung to his form.

"Bitch business," Javier said matter-of-factly, then as he was straightening the bed, he ventured hesitatingly; "Paris… he's so pretty…"

"Not as pre-"

"Shut up, Zell. I'm not asking for reassurance. I wasn't finished. I was going to say; he's so pretty, but… his behaviour'll get him killed and… and… I kinda think he doesn't care…"

"Do you?" Zell wondered, arching both brows. Javier straightened, his hands fisted before him.

"Don't tell anyone, Zell… He'd kill me but… he was nice to me. I mean really nice."

Zell smiled and gathered Javier close, stroking his hair.

"I know. I heard. It's pretty weird, actually."

Javier just nodded against Zell's shoulder.

- - - - - - -

Irvine headed straight for the shower to wash away the horrid feeling of being _nice_. He hadn't been _nice_ for years. Damn that little fuck and his big green eyes! And damn him for looking _so_ much like-

The assassin derailed that train of thought very quickly and stripped then, leaving his clothes where they would remain dry, he stepped into the showers and turned on the hot water.

Somehow, it was hardly a surprise when a large hand stroked down his back, then back up to trace the lines of the bronco. A strong body pressed against his back, stronger evidence of lust against his arse.

"Fuckin' randy, ain't'cha?" Irvine muttered. "I'm tryin' to wash my hair."

"I don't care."

"I know you don't."

Irvine put up with Seifer's wandering hands for a little while longer, rather enjoying the touch, but then he turned, wrapped a hand around the mob boss's cock, and jerked hard on it.

"Ow! _Fuck_! You little-"

Irvine put a finger across Seifer's lips, smirking and he shifted his grip a little, reminding him what the assassin held.

"I ain't your bitch, _Seifer_. Don't go thinkin' just 'cause you fucked me once, you can fuck me wheneverthehell you want. I ain't gonna walk 'round this joint like I got a stick up my arse because you don't got no restraint. Talk to me again in twelve hours or so, and I might be more obligin', got it? Until then, be good, and wash my hair for me…"

Seifer glared at him.

"Please…?" he said, cocking his head a little and pouting. "How 'bout if I promise to suck you off if you do…?"

"I thought you said you'd be more obliging in twelve hours…"

"Lucky for you, I thought of a compromise. I'm too lazy to wash my own hair, if I can, like, help it."

Seifer nodded slowly and Irvine smiled sweetly, turning and handing Seifer shampoo and conditioner.

"Uh…"

"Shampoo first, idiot…" Irvine muttered, rolling his eyes.

Seifer growled at him, but squeezed some of the shampoo into his hands. He soon discovered that washing Irvine's hair was not without its perks. He made all those sounds he made when he was being fucked and, in fact, behaved much as though he _were_ being fucked, arching his back and pressing his hands to the shower wall tiles. The mob boss was unspeakably glad Irvine had promised to suck him off after this, because his reaction was damn painful.

He rinsed Irvine's hair carefully, then reached for the conditioner bottle and worked that through as well, again to a chorus of little sounds and wrigglings. He was actually kind of proud of himself for not just slamming Irvine against the tiled walls and fucking his brains out. Of course, once he'd had that thought, more primal instincts took over.

Irvine growled when Seifer pushed him forward and opened his mouth to protest, but he moaned instead when the mob boss pressed a soapy finger within him.

"Seifer," he warned through gritted teeth, but it sounded very insincere when another moan followed in its wake, along with a buck of his hips brought on by a second finger inside of him. "Seifer…" he said again, but now it was a whisper.

"Just hold on," Seifer advised, and buried himself to the hilt in the water-slick assassin.

Irvine cried out, arching his back and he forced Seifer back a couple of steps so he was bent slightly at the waist, arms outstretched to hold him against the wall. Seifer ran his tongue along his upper-teeth and held Irvine's hips, thrusting into him hard and strong.

"Bastard…" Irvine ground out, tossing his head to flick his hair back over his shoulders.

"Shut up and moan for me," Seifer growled back. His lover was helpless to do anything else, and he did moan, lifting his hips to Seifer's movements as the water cascaded down on them.

Seifer slid a hand around Irvine's hip to wrap his fingers about the assassin's length, stroking in time with his thrusts. Irvine moaned the louder, fingers flexing against the tiles and some rational part of his mind remarked that he _must_ have known this would happen when he asked Seifer to wash his hair.

Then there were no rational parts of his mind left, because they all left him with a cry of Seifer's name as he released, the blonde's own groan ringing in his ears a split-second later.

They both sank to the tiles, panting, and Irvine ran his hand through his hair, eyelids flickering.

"I didn't say you could fuck me," he said when he could talk again.

"You moaned just the same, though…" Seifer replied with a self-satisfied smirk. "C'mon, you can't tell me you don't enjoy it…"

Irvine said nothing.

"You do realise you're using up all the hot water, right…?"

Their eyes snapped open.

"Like it matters! That was hooot!"

"Oh, kill me now…" Irvine groaned.

"Then who would kill me…?" Seifer replied, casually crossing one leg over the other to hide his masculinity.

"Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww…"

"Fuck off, Giggles…" Seifer muttered.

"You're still using up the hot water…"

"You too, Perv."

"I wish I'd had a video camera! Is there surveillance in here, Perv?"

"No, Giggles, there isn't, because _someone_ was recording it and feeding it to the internet for three dollars an hour. She nearly got fired, but luckily for her, her partner made it look like hackers."

"Ohh, yeah… Thanks, Perv!" Kitty cried, and tackle-hugged her partner.

"Alright. Let's kill _her_ instead… together," Irvine suggested.

"And suffer Ink and Perv's wrath? I don't think so," Seifer replied, standing and turning off the hot water. He brushed past the two guards to get to the towels, and didn't even react when both their nightsticks swatted his behind as he passed.

"Isn't that, like, sexual harassment or somethin'…?"

"Better the devil you know, Paris. At least these two are helpful and somewhat nice, if deranged. Imagine if we got them fired, and they were replaced by two more Captain Hardarses…"

"True," Irvine agreed, then he stood as well, although he gave Kitty and Eoko a wide berth so as not to suffer Seifer's fate. Kitty giggled and Eoko just smirked.

"See you boys at mealtime," she said, then took hold of Kitty's wrist and dragged her off.

"How much do you think they saw…?" Irvine ventured as they dressed.

"Probably the whole damn lot. Get used to it. They're good at sneaking."


	13. Prostitution

_**For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge.**_

_~ A Kitty and Eoko Collaboration Fic._

Warnings: _ More sex. XD Lemon~

Disclaimer: We don't own FF8, it belongs to Square, nor do we make any money off this fic.

Parings: Duh.

Author's Notes:

_Kitty: Okay... so I lied. It's been more than a week since the last update... but I did tell the truth about Eoko contributing to Author's Notes this time! Here she is! Yay!_

Eoko: I think they would have prefered a chap sooner.

_Kitty: Yes, I know... but you know, it's your fault. If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't spend my whole life on Pony Island._

Eoko: .. That's true.

_Kitty: XD Not that I'm complaining. The ponehs are just so addictive. *falls over*_

Eoko: And I take care of my friendies. ^^

_Kitty: _ Especially when they kill ponies. That you gave them. Three times._

Eoko: *rolls eyes* You learned.

_Kitty: Eventually. *dies* Anyway! Enough about ponies. Here is the chapter. AND IT IS EPIC!_

_Chapter 14 – Prostitution._

"Irvine?" Javier asked, poking his head around the bars into Seifer's cell.

The assassin leaned up onto an elbow and looked over to the dark haired man. "Up here."

Javier entered the cell, smile on his face and a pair of standard issue pants clutched to his chest. He beamed brightly up at the auburn haired inmate as he came over.

"I mended the buttons," he said cheerily, holding the article of clothing up towards Irvine. "It was super easy."

Irvine reached down with his free hand to take the pants. "Yeah, well, I don't expect to need you to, like, do this that often."

"Let's hope Jade feels the same way, then." Javier giggled and climbed up onto the top bunk.

"What are you doin'?" Irvine asked, but moved his feet up and under him all the same.

"Coming up to visit you, of course."

"Of course…"

The younger inmate got himself comfortable, sitting cross legged at the foot of the bunk. "So, how have you been?"

"What? In the miniscule time since I last saw you?"

"Mhmm."

"Jade's still an insatiable mother fucker."

Javier giggled and nodded. "They're like that, Ink and him. Things going okay otherwise? No one else is messing with you, are they?"

"From what I've heard, anyone would be stupid to mess with me now."

"That mean you're officially Jade's bitch?" the dark haired inmate inquired.

"Hell no! But it don't, like, stop the gossip. And with Jade walkin' around like Mister King Dick of the place, that gossip is gettin' accepted pretty dang quick."

"I heard you got caught in the shower by the perverted pair."

"If you mean those fag-hag guards, then yeah. It's like they got a sixth sense for it or somethin'. Don't it piss you off?" Irvine asked, glancing at the younger man.

"Mm… not anymore. It used to embarrass the hell out of me. But, one, I've gotten used to it, and two, the way Ink acts when he knows they're there."

"A show off, eh?"

"A preening peacock." Javier giggled. "But I'd never complain."

Irvine made a face, wrinkling his nose. "He can't be all that good."

"Oh, he most certainly is. And you're bound to find out. Jade'll let him have a go at you. Probably only one though. Jade's probably more your type of man anyway, and I wouldn't complain about that either."

Irvine leaned back and regarded the pretty young man. "You actually love him, don't you?"

Javier's cheeks turned a powdered pink before he looked down at his lap, smiling softly. "Yeah, I do. It's funny really, meeting the man of my dreams in here." He waved a hand over his shoulder.

"The man of your dreams? Uh-huh."

"Well," Javier chuckled. "He's a little shorter in person than I expected."

The assassin blinked, then let out a bark of laughter. "That was a good one."

The younger of the two grinned and turned to lean against the wall. "So, we're friends now, right?"

- - - - - - -

"He says no, but you just know he means yes."

"Ah, the logic twisted dreams are made of." Zell snickered, switching his weights to the other hand.

"Shut up, Ink. He wants to act all tough and in charge, but he belongs on his back. He knows it, and he loves it. Those sounds he makes just beg me to keep going."

"You know, all this talk of Paris on his back is getting me pretty-"

"Horny?"

"Interested," Zell clarified, rolling his eyes. "You're the horny bastard around here."

"Maybe, but I'm pretty damn happy too."

"Yea, if you get some. You get pretty damn pissed off if Paris says no."

"Well who in their right mind says no to me?"

"When did we _ever_ say Paris was in his right mind?"

"Touché." Seifer chuckled. "Ink."

"Yea, what?"

"If you can _seduce_ Paris into your bed, you can take him, once."

Zell arched a brow. "Big, bad Almasy finally gonna share is he?"

"Once," Seifer clarified.

"I don't want more'n once. I just wanna know what your big fuss is about. I have Skid and I'm happy with him."

"You're in _love_ with him."

"Details, details."

"Wolves don't fall in love."

"Do you forget I'm not _actually_ a criminal?" Zell asked, arching a brow.

Seifer blinked and looked over at the other blond. "Guess I still do sometimes. You sure as hell got the mouth of one."

"Fuck up, Jade." Zell grinned.

"Point proven." He stood up from the bench he'd been sitting on and stretched. "Come on. We should go shower before dinner."

"Ah, a line like that used to sound so much better before the cowboy-toy showed up." Zell gave a dramatically fake sigh, then grinned again.

"You're an insatiable fuck, Ink. I swear no one else here fucks as much as you. Bottom, top- hell, sandwiched in between if you could get it."

"Ooohh…" Zell looked up in thought.

"No," Seifer jerked his hand to the side. "No three ways you fucking sex-lush."

"Lush my arse. I'm a sexaholic and you know it."

"Wasn't aware that was something to be proud of."

"Hell, 'course it is. If you're good at it, why wouldn't it be?" he grinned at Seifer in a way that could only be described as Zellishly. "So, I can really take your bitch for a test drive?"

Seifer cocked a brow, the snorted. "If you can get him into bed, go for it. I know you wouldn't force him."

"Nope. Unlike you."

"I never _forced_ him." Seifer scoffed and made a gesture with one hand.

"Right, because 'no means yes', right?" Zell smirked and shook his head. "You're more forceful than I am anyway, but that's probably the way Paris likes it."

"Probably? From what I've heard, it's exactly what he likes. Speaking of which, there he is coming out of the block. Gonna go work your "magic"?" Seifer asked, smirking.

"Nah. Not yet. Unlike you, I have some restraint."

"'Some' being the appropriate word."

- - - - - - -

Zell waited until after dinner to make his move. He leaned against one of the wall-ends that separated the cells and supported the bars, waiting for Irvine to pass by.

He smirked to himself, thinking over his plan, and shook his head at the thought of Seifer not believing he could pull it off. Seduction he could do. Slamming someone up against a wall _against their will_, not so much.

The guard lifted his eyes as someone approached, raising his head and grinning widely when he saw it was Irvine. "Hello, Paris."

Irvine glanced at him a mere second and kept on walking. "I know that look."

Zell pushed himself off the wall and took a couple of steps so as to get ahead of the assassin. "Guess that means I don't have to lay out my intentions."

"Lay out whatever you fuckin' well like. No way in hell you could make me scream or beg. For nothin'," Irvine added, glaring the blond down, to no avail.

The younger man just shook his head and smiled. "Maybe I should clarify my intentions. I don't want to make you scream or beg."

Irvine lifted his head a touch and looked down his nose at the blond. "No? What do you want to make me do, then?"

Zell grinned devilishly before launching into his little speech. "Unlike most of the others, I know what you did to get in here. I know how alone and isolated you have to be to do that. I know how cold you have to be. So I don't want to make you scream or beg. No, that would be too easy-"

Irvine snorted but Zell just pushed on, stepping closer and sliding an arm around the hitman's waist. "I want to make you _warm_. I want to touch you until my fingers start fires over your skin. I want to make you hot just from want. I want you to need it so bad you _burn_."

The assassin swallowed involuntarily but collected himself again. "Big ego for such a short shit," he hissed, looking down his nose at the guard again.

"I have good reason to have a big ego. Hasn't Skid told you?" Zell grinned, cocking his head to the side slightly.

"Like I'd believe anythin' outta the mouth that lives to suck your cock." Irvine sneered and turned his head aside. "Let go of me."

"Aw, come on now, Paris. Skid don't have any reason to lie, no matter what he does with his mouth. And, think about it," he said, moving his free hand to the hitman's hip while the other danced up his spine. "I'll treat you like a prince, and once it's done, you'll never have to worry about me again."

Irvine grunted. "Only want me once, hm?"

"Only allowed once," Zell clarified, grinning. "Then you can go back to worrying about Jade jumping you every spare moment." He ran his hand up into the taller man's hair, causing him to shudder very slightly.

"Well… if it'll get you outta my face, I guess I could grit my teeth and bare it for, what? Five, ten minutes?" He smirked until another stroke through his hair made him moan quietly.

"Oh, longer than that. Come on then, Paris. This way," Zell said, sliding his hand down to Irvine's and leading the hitman into his cell. "You really are beautiful."

"I don't, like, need your compliments, Ink. Just get it over with." Irvine pulled his hand away, heading over to the bunk and laying back.

Zell arched a brow. "Nothing but business, hm?" But he didn't mind. Getting him into bed was the tough bit. Getting him to enjoy himself would only take a matter of time.

He went over to the bed, shedding his singlet on the way, and settled over the hitman.

Irvine allowed himself a quick scan of the guard's body. He was attractive; hard muscles, toned and defined to a perfect firmness, moving fluidly beneath lightly tanned skin. He might have even have had a chance on the outside, had he been a bit taller, that is.

The blond grinned, shifting lower on the bunk and bringing his hands to the hem of the inmate's top. He pushed it up his body, head bent to trail kisses and nips up the slowly revealed skin.

He grinned as muscles twitched slightly under his oral assault and arms lifted to make the removal of the top easier. Another moment and it was gone, leaving Zell to bask in the radiance that was Irvine Kinneas, half naked with gold hoops through each nipple.

A small sound of approval escaped his lips as his meandering mouth made a quick detour, tongue swirling around one of the piercings before taking the hoop between his teeth and tugging gently.

The assassin hissed, body lifting closer to Zell's as the guard continued to attack his pierced nipple with his talented mouth. He snorted mentally though. _Little whore probably gets lots of practice._

His thoughts, however, were cut off as one of the blond's hands moved once again into his hair, playing two of the hitman's weak spots against him. He moaned, quietly, but it was enough to cause the younger man to smirk. He could feel it briefly against his chest. _Cocky shit._

"It's not so bad, is it?"

"I'll live," Irvine barely got out in a nearly normal voice.

"Good. I wouldn't want to fuck you to death." Another grin.

"Like you could. Cocky little shit."

"Just you wait, Paris. Just you wait."

"I'm waitin', and nothin's happenin'," Irvine retorted, but was cut off by his own gasp as Zell's tongue ran from his naval to his throat, body lifting with it.

"Sure. Nothing. Why don't I just see for myself, hm?" The guard cocked a brow, free hand moving to the waist band of the hitman's pants, two fingers tucking inside and sliding around to the front.

Irvine glared down at the younger man, but gave no other indication that he should stop. And stop he didn't. Zell brought his hand down from auburn hair to help unbutton the pants, pulling them and the assassin's boxers down in one swift motion. The next moment his full attention was on the beautiful killer beneath him, eyes wandering over every inch of his exposed body.

Irvine lay there, uncaring, knowing he was good looking and completely unashamed of showing it off given the right circumstances; minutes away from sex definitely being one of them. "You gonna, like, do somethin', or just sit around staring at me all night?"

"It's tempting alright. Definitely tempting." He ran his hands down smooth thighs and back up again. "But then again, so are other activities."

"Other activities that most likely involve you losin' your pants, hm?" Irvine asked, one brow lifting in question before he turned to his head to the side, feigning boredom.

"All in due time." One hand came up to the inmate's chin, turning his head back to him and closing the distance, kissing him slowly. Zell's other hand slid up Irvine's side, over his shoulder and along his arm to grip his wrist and pin it against the mattress.

Just as the hitman began to part his lips to the blond, said blond pulled away, grinning at the little noise he made.

"Tease…" Irvine murmured, watching him move down the bunk once more.

This time Zell lowered himself between Irvine's legs, nuzzling his length, then running his tongue up the underside from base to tip.

Irvine shuddered but restrained a small moan by biting his lower lip and gripping at the sheets. "S-stop that. Just do-oooh… do it."

"And miss this opportunity? Mm-mm, no way. You just lay back and enjoy yourself while I do the same. It'll be over eventually."

A groan slipped passed the taller man's lips as Zell finished his statement by taking him deep into his mouth. One of his hands betrayed his mental orders to not respond, fingers threading through soft, blond hair.

The corners of Zell's lips twitched slightly at the hand in his hair, all the encouragement he needed to take the hitman deeper and suck hard.

Irvine let out a strangled cry, gripping hard enough to make Zell grunt, but far from enough to make him stop. He continued to tease and please the assassin until he was unable to restrain the little sounds Seifer boasted of so often.

It was at that point he stopped, drawing a panted string of curses from parted lips. He smirked down at the auburn haired man, undoing his own pants while waiting for Irvine to look at him.

"I hate you… you mother… _fucker_. You suck."

"No kidding," Zell replied with a chuckle, shifting a little to remove his pants without having to remove himself from atop his treat. "I thought you'd had enough of that. Maybe ready for a little something more?"

"Just fuckin' do it," Irvine growled before his head snapped back as two slick fingers slid inside him. "Uhh…" His eyes fell shut again, lips parted, breath coming in pants.

"Better?" Zell asked, pressing his body down against the assassin's and nibbling at his jaw line and neck.

"Mar-marginally," Irvine breathed, bringing a hand up to curl over the blond's shoulder.

"In that case, I think you'll enjoy the next part much more." And with that said, Irvine was given only a few moments to calm himself as Zell removed his fingers, then slowly slid into the older man beneath him, a soft moan escaping his lips.

The guard paused, leaning down to press a kiss to the hitman's lips, the down and along his throat and shoulder. "You're beautiful, Paris."

"Uh… Good for me. Come on… move, dammit. Just f-fuck me," Irvine whined, body shifting deliciously beneath the blond.

"Shh. Alright. I guess I've teased you enough."

"Damn fuckin' right you have…"

Zell shook his head, grinning, and then started moving. His pace started off slow and strong, gradually gaining speed to a chorus of the little sounds Irvine made.

The hitman didn't take long to learn the rhythm and the slight changes in pace. In no time he was moving with the guard, hips lifting to meet each thrust. The sounds he made were more subdued than when he was with Seifer, more whimpers and needy whines. He didn't scream his lungs out and his throat raw.

Zell, for one, was pleased. He wasn't Seifer, didn't want to be, and was glad he could make Irvine sing a completely different song. It spoke volumes in itself. He didn't fake the sounds he made. His body just _knew_ what to do, what pitch, and how loud for each move of his body. It was a thing of beauty.

"I-ink…" his back arched, head pressed hard into the pillow as Zell's fingers came between them to wrap around his length.

The guard couldn't help but take a moment to think how much like an instrument the assassin was like this. But such contemplations soon drifted from his mind. All there was now was himself, Irvine and their quickly approaching ends.

He could feel it in the shift and strain of the muscles beneath him, could hear in the catch of breath and hitch in the little sounds escaping Irvine's lips. His hand held firmer, moved faster, as he put his all into pleasing the inmate.

And to his pleasure, Irvine's head snapped back, body arching off the mattress and a sound caught between a cry and a moan slipped past his lips and into the cell as his release swept over him.

With his goal accomplished, Zell threw what restraint he had left to the wind, letting his body revel in the evening's past events and soak in the atmosphere of sex and afterglow. Two more thrusts were all he needed, his head bowed with his own release, a low moan escaping his throat.

His body faltered a moment before he caught himself, focusing long enough to withdraw from the inmate and lay next to him on the bunk.

Irvine took only the time he needed to recover before he removed himself from the guard's bed and went about finding his clothes, only a slight shake in his step.

"Better hurry 'fore they lock the cells. Jade'll be missing you."

The assassin snorted, pulling on his pants. "I'm sure. He'll just want to reclaim me as his, no doubt."

"I guarantee it. Night, Paris. Good luck with, Jade. He'll probably leave you for tonight though."

"Probably my arse. He isn't touchin' me for a week after that last stunt." Without so much as a goodbye, Irvine slung his top over his shoulder and left the cell, slipping back into his own only a few minutes before the first call was made.

"Just in time," Seifer murmured, eyes glancing over at him, one of his books in hand.


	14. Possession of an Illegal Substance

_**For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge.**_

_~ A Kitty and Eoko Collaboration Fic._

Warnings: Foul language.

Disclaimer: We don't own FF8, it belongs to Square, nor do we make any money off this fic.

Parings: Duh.

Author's Notes: Uhh... yeah... long time. Sorry.

_Chapter 15: Possession of an Illegal Substance._

"Oh, for fuck's sake, don't _even_, Jade…" Irvine growled, looking away from the cool green eyes that studied him. "I got no patience. I got no energy. I got no _nothin'_ to give you, and, even if I did, I wouldn't after that fuckin' shit in the shower!"

"Like you didn't enjoy it…"

"Like that means you can do it whenever you want! Fuck! Just stay there, alright, and leave me alone!"

Irvine stalked across their cell and clambered up the ladder, aware of Seifer's eyes on him the whole way. And he couldn't say he was really surprised when, after he heard the thud of the book being dropped to the floor, Seifer appeared, arms folded over the edge of his bunk.

"He fuck you?"

"You already know he did…" Irvine murmured, turning away. "I need a shower."

Seifer looked significantly at the bars as they rolled shut, though the movement was useless, since Irvine wasn't even looking at him.

"Too bad," he murmured.

"No fuckin' kiddin'. Short little shithead wouldn't just get it over with!"

"He never does."

"Oh, and you'd know, wouldn't you. Fuckin' whore. Piss off."

Seifer blinked, taken aback at the tone of Irvine's voice.

"I didn't think it was possible for you to be in _more_ of a shitty mood than usual, yet here it is. What's up your arse?"

"_Everyfuckin'one_!" Irvine snarled, rolling to face him and pushing him hard. He was so unprepared for it that he toppled backward and landed with a thud, barely managing to catch himself so he didn't crack his head on the solid floor. "Piss off! I just want to sleep!"

And he rolled away again, tugging his blankets over himself and refusing to say or do anything more, despite the various ways Seifer tried to get his attention. In the end, Irvine slept like a log, totally exhausted from the last couple of days, but Seifer slept like crap, and he couldn't for the life of him figure out why.

- - - - - - -

"_Seifer… Oh… oh, do that again…"_

"_Do what? This…?"_

"_Mmm… that… Hell, yeah…"_

"_You're beautiful…"_

"_I know…Oh, Seifer…"_

"_I love the way you say my name…"_

"…_Seifer…"_

"_Mmm…"_

"_Don't stop…"_

"_I'd never."_

"_Don't… d-don't stop…"_

- - - - - - -

"…Oh… Oh, Seifer…"

Having not slept very well, Seifer was watching the cell bars avidly as the light began to grow, signalling morning, and the words from the top bunk rang clear in the early-morning silence. The mob boss stilled, staring at the bottom of the mattress above him now and wondering if he was so tired, he was hallucinating.

"…Seifer…"

Seifer blinked several times, licking his lips.

"Don't stop…"

Shifting, Seifer wondered at the fact that just the breathy voice could warm him and, when Irvine moved slightly, he knew the assassin was waking from whatever dream he was entangled in.

"Don't… d-don't stop…"

It must be a _really_ good dream, Seifer reflected and Irvine shifted again, groaning softly. The mob boss was just about to kick the mattress so he didn't have to listen to those – _fucking hot, sexy, turn-me-on, _damn_-I-wanna-fuck-him_ – annoying noises anymore when Irvine cursed, signalling that he had woken.

Seifer watched as the assassin flipped off the top bunk and landed soundlessly on the floor. He straightened and stretched and Seifer couldn't resist asking;

"Sleep well?"

Irvine just shot him his very best lava-freezing glare and draped his arms over the bars, peering out to see if any guards were moving, and if they were, who they were. It would probably be just his luck, he thought, that after a dream like that, it would be Kitty and Eoko.

And what was with that dream anyway?

He growled and started to move away from the bars, but Seifer pressed against his back, curling his hands around the bars and holding Irvine pinned there.

"Going to have that shower…?" he wondered silkily into the assassin's ear.

"Yes," Irvine said shortly, and they both stepped back as the bars rolled open, though Seifer remained pressed against him.

"Can I-"

"No."

"Try and stop me."

Irvine smiled slightly and went to Javier and Zell's cell, nodding his head to the pair as they exited. They both looked at him oddly, at which he wasn't surprised, since anything even approaching civility was not natural to him.

"Hate to put the pair of you out," he drawled, ignoring Seifer's hand which was creeping closer to the front of his pants. Javier's eyes followed it. "But could you possibly keep this horndog off my arse for _ten minutes_ while I go and shower…? I want my damn breakfast, but I _need_ a shower, and if he… Well, there won't be time for breakfast."

Zell grinned and Javier giggled. The former stepped forward, prying Seifer's hands off the assassin and ignoring his growling curses.

"C'mon, Jade. You gotta give him _five minutes_ alone…" Zell said as Irvine strode off.

"I do not."

"What if you hurt him…?" Javier said softly as Zell dragged the mob boss towards their breakfast.

"So what if I do?"

Javier twitched and dropped his eyes, biting his lower lip, then he tried again.

"Don't you care about him?"

"Why should I?"

"But-"

"He's just a _fuck_, Skid," Seifer said flatly, as though telling him the sky was blue and the grass was green.

Javier plucked at his singlet and sighed as Zell slipped an arm around him, the tattooed blond having decided Seifer would go the rest of the way to breakfast without his assistance, now that the smell of it was in their noses.

"I don't want him to hurt Paris…" Javier said softly.

"That's up to Paris to decide," Zell replied, looking oddly at Javier. "What's gotten into you? You know how things work. You know how _Jade_ works."

"I… I know, but… Paris… he was so nice to me and I… I don't want Jade to hurt him like that…"

Zell smiled, pulling Javier against him.

"Protective of him…?"

Javier blushed at the tone of Zell's voice.

"Don't tease me! I can't explain it… I just…" He gestured helplessly as they entered the dining room, Seifer making a beeline towards the food in front of them.

"I know," Zell said softly, kissing his hair. "I know…"

- - - - - - -

Irvine was enjoying a couple of hours of peace, since Seifer was working. He lay on his back, reading the book that had been in Seifer's hands the night before. It was the worst kind of romance novel, and the fact that the mob boss had been reading it was a source of great amusement to the assassin. But then, he had to admit, it wasn't as if they had a lot to do in here…

Except each other. Stupid dream…

"Iiirvyyy…"

_Oh for…_

"Iiirvyyy Kinnyyy-Pooo!"

"Go away, Giggles."

"Can't. You got a visitor."

The diminuitive guard – weren't there rules about that? You must be this tall to guard? – entered the cell and rapped lightly against the mattress base beneath him, smiling up to him as he leant over to look at her. He wondered if she had been so lax as to come get him alone, but then he heard movement and her partner appeared, leaning in the 'doorway'.

"Damn Ferret… How the hell he get this in anyway?" she muttered, waving what must be the cause of her delay – a packet of white powder.

"I thought the boss stopped him having visitors…" Kitty said in confusion, wandering over to poke at the drugs as Irvine flipped from the bunk behind her.

"He did. And all his mail is checked."

"_Associates_!" the smaller woman squealed, gesturing with her nightstick.

"How astute…" Irvine muttered, yawning expansively.

"I know!" Kitty replied, either totally oblivious to his sarcasm, or choosing to ignore it.

"Oh, come on…" Irvine muttered. "Let's go."

"Right!"

Kitty marched off, her nightstick over her shoulder and her uniform hat askew on her streaked hair. Irvine wondered, not for the first time, how in the hell she'd ever gotten a job at all, let alone one in a maximum security prison.

Aha! It was the sunshine-yellow suited reporter! Today, her short-skirted, low-necklined suit was fairy-floss pink. She really was very sexy… Irvine reflected as he sat, growling when Kitty ruffled his hair before wandering off.

The assassin just gloried in her nearly-unclothed presence, then decided he might marry her when she slid several chocolate bars across the table. He wondered if criminals could get married. Mmm… conjugal visits…

"Sooo…" the woman said, beaming at him. "Wanna tell me about the conditions here…?"

"Well, Miss. Tilmitt… to tell you the truth, they're not that bad. Some of the food is a li'l questionable, and a couple of the guards have anger management problems… But, like, most of them are alright."

She stared at him.

"But… but your face…"

Irvine looked blankly at her, then remembered Seifer's less than gentle reactions to him and smirked slightly, tonguing the half-healed cut to his lip.

"Cellmate. He… gets a bit irritated…"

"Want to tell me about that?!" she asked, sounding far too eager.

"Not really," he said, because he certainly had no wish to discuss one Seifer Almasy's behaviour. He may enjoy pushing Seifer's anger-buttons, but he had no desire to get himself killed because he went blabbing about the King Pins to some snappily-dressed, pert-arsed little reporter.

"I gave you your chocolate!" she protested, and he quickly lashed out and pulled it into his lap before she could decide to take it back.

"It's not worth my arse, chicky. You're askin' me to rat on important people here…"

"You _promised_!"

"I did no such thing. I don't see no contract in writin'. We didn't even shake on it. Guard!"

"Irviiine…" Selphie whined, leaning forward and flashing her cleavage at him. He certainly didn't refrain from taking it all in, but he only smiled sweetly and shrugged a bit.

"Missed your chance, darlin'," he said as Kitty took his arm and he stood. "I'm in it now…" And he sauntered off, complete with chocolate. Seifer could no longer ransom his arse for chocolate.

Irvine smirked. At least the visit had been worth it.

"Oh, what's this?!"

Irvine snapped out of his reverie and blinked, realising Eoko and Kitty were standing in front of him just before the yard gate.

"Huh…?"

"_Contraband_!" Kitty squealed, prodding the chocolate bars he held cradled against his stomach.

"What?! It ain't-"

"We have to check that for drugs," Eoko said seriously.

"They would've checked before lettin' it through!" Irvine protested.

Kitty giggled, predictably enough, and reached out to take his chocolate, silencing his protests with a prod of her nightstick to his navel.

"We don't trust them, do we Perv?"

"Nup. Don't trust 'em at all."

Then it clicked and Irvine scowled.

"You just don't want Jade to lose his advantage!" he accused. The women grinned, then opened the gate and ushered him through. Eoko stopped to secure it while Kitty skipped off across the yard with _his_ chocolate. "Bitches…" he growled as Eoko passed him. She just grinned at him, winking as she politely tipped her hat, then strode off, swinging her nightstick.

Irvine withdrew a smoke and lit it, sticking it between petulant lips and glaring his best glare at Eoko's retreating back. Damn freakish guards and their weird fetishes… It wouldn't surprise him if they went to a broom cupboard somewhere and got each other off with their nightsticks once they were done watching inmates fuck…

"At least they didn't hit you…" an altogether _too_ perky voice commented.

"Fuck off, Ink…" Irvine muttered, striding across the yard.

Zell smirked, watching that unbelievable arse sashay its way back inside.

He really was built to be fucked… by Seifer.

- - - - - - -

"Jade!"

Seifer curled his lip, but he knew if he ignored the little twit, she'd only pursue him until he had a headache from her pestering.

"Giggles…" he said by way of greeting.

"Got something for you," Eoko said as he turned to face them.

Kitty held up several more varieties of chocolate and he arched both brows.

"I didn't even make an order…" he said slowly.

"Windfall," Kitty replied, and dumped the chocolate in his arms. "You didn't get it from us!" She winked and skipped off, Eoko at her heels.

Seifer looked at the chocolate in his hands, then chuckled and headed for his cell to stash it.


	15. It Ends Now

Author's Notes: So, right... it's been forever since I got any of this up, and I'm really sorry about that, but you know... stuff happens. So since I can't be trusted to do anything regularly, here is the rest of the fic, right up until the end. Enjoy, and I do again apologise for the massively massive wait. ~ Kitty.

Chapter 16

Although he'd never admit it aloud, and barely even to himself, Irvine knew he was becoming more agreeable to Seifer's wishes. He still didn't say yes. He wouldn't beg the ego inflated mob boss to take him hot, hard, fast, and damn good. But he was definitely coming around to the idea a lot faster than the first time Seifer made a successful move.

It was because of this emerging agreeability that he found himself heading to the showers once again. At this rate he was going to be a very clean con. He walked into the showers and began to remove his clothes, setting them on the bench.

A couple other inmates were leaving as he headed around the half-wall. He ignored the catcalls, just like he did everyday and went to the shower he had, after much deliberation, dubbed the best working.

"Oh, Irvine. You're in here too?"

"Seems that way, don't it?" The assassin turned on his shower without even looking back to the dark haired man.

"May I join you?" Javier asked, placing his towel down on the bench next to Irvine's things.

"Communal showers, Skid. Can't stop you, can I?" He tipped his head back, running his fingers through his hair.

"Well, no, but I'd go if you wanted to be alone."

"Rather you than most of the others in here."

Javier grinned pleasantly and removed his clothing then headed over to the shower next to Irvine. "So…"

"We're not talking about it."

"Oh, come on," the younger man whined. "It's something we have in common!" He turned his back to the wall and let the water soak his hair.

"Bein' fucked by ego inflated blonds?" the assassin inquired.

"Mhmm, so I take it Jade got you good last night. Sure sounded like it." Javier giggled, shaking his head a little.

"Don't think I didn't hear you last night too."

Javier giggled more, shampooing his hair. "So, who's better? Jade or Ink?"

Irvine just stared at the wall for a few moments, hands stilling in his hair.

"Well?"

"I'm not going to dignify that question with an answer."

Javier pouted cutely and gave a little whine. "Come on, Irvine. I want to know."

"They're… different. You'd like Ink more."

"I asked you who _you_ liked more," Javier said, rinsing his hair and adding some conditioner.

"And I'm tryin' to not answer you. Javier, stop it. I can practically _hear_ you poutin'."

"Then answer meeeee."

"Jade! I like Jade better. Ink's too… sweet."

"Sweet's not a bad thing," the dark haired inmate said, voice edging towards dreamy.

Irvine made a face at the tone. "Is if all you want is a fuck."

"You don't want more?"

"No."

"Never?"

"Never."

"Why?"

Irvine was quiet for a long time. He rinsed and conditioned his hair in silence then sighed. "Drop it, Jay. Just drop it."

Javier regarded him another moment, hurt to not have been confided in although he hadn't really expected Irvine to do so. He nodded once before leaving.

The assassin was grateful for that. He looked over his shoulder to see Javier heading back to his clothes. He stopped and turned a little more to get a better look. What was that mark?

Irvine sat picking at his lunch, looking at it hard as if it held the answers he was looking for somewhere in the potatoes or mixed vegetables. So far he'd had no luck and the mark he'd seen on Javier's back still bothered him.

It tugged at memories he'd long since tried to bury away and forget. And because of that it was all the much harder to recall them now. His past had not been a happy one, which one might assume given his current ex-career. It was somewhere between his initial devastation and his new life where that mark lay.

"Eat your goddamn, fucking food," Seifer said through clenched teeth. "You're driving me insane."

The assassin glanced up at him, frowned, then went back to his lunch. He shoved a forkful of potatoes into his mouth and continued to mull over his thoughts. He'd have to dig up his demons to remember where that mark was from. If he didn't, he was going to go crazy.

When he'd finished his lunch, he made his way back to his cell. He waved off Seifer's "invitation" that he join him in the yard to spot him while he lifted weights and completely ignored the look he got when he said he was going back to his cell.

Once there he climbed up onto his bunk, lay down and crossed his arms behind his head. His lips weighed down in a frown as he contemplated his past over the backdrop of a plain, grey ceiling.

Irvine had, a long time ago, been a privileged little boy. He was the single child of wealthy parents and had gotten everything that he had ever asked for or wanted. However, he had always had a feeling he had been a mistake, and that his parents had never wanted children. This was confirmed one evening when he was eight.

His parents had started to lose their money. They put their house up for sale, sold their cars, their expensive jewelry and possessions trying to get as much as they could for what they had left.

And on the day the house was sold they took the check and fled the country. They left behind only one thing; the most costly they still had. Their son. More than that, they left him in a park with nothing more than a blanket for the night.

When he'd realized they were gone it was already too late. He didn't know of any relatives and had no way of getting back to a home that was no longer his. He spent that night alone on the bench, hoping they'd be back in the morning, and grateful it was summer.

They didn't come back though. In fact, Irvine had no idea where they were even now, and he honestly didn't care if he ever saw them again. He thought that if he did, he was liable to kill them.

Instead of ending up in an orphanage, Irvine had been taken in by a professional hitman, which explained his career choice. And he hadn't been the only assassin-in-training. There had been a slightly younger boy there, also without parents. That was the boy Javier reminded him so much of.

That boy had been like a younger brother, something he'd always wanted as an only child. He loved him more than he'd ever loved anyone else. They were the closest of friends, knowing everything of each other's pasts, secrets, fears and hopes. They confided in each other about everything.

When their caretaker deemed them ready he gave them each an assignment. They were petty compared to Irvine's more recent jobs, but as a teenager it had been a big deal. He'd returned from the task the same evening he'd set out. His comrade never did come back.

Irvine turned onto his side with a frown. His parents had abandoned him, and the one other person he ever cared about suddenly just disappeared. It wasn't really a wonder he gave up on the deeper levels of his feelings. He didn't want to be hurt again, and on the other hand, it made his job a tad bit easier.

He'd tried to forget as much about that day as he could. His friend's disappearance had thrown him into deep depression for more than a week. The most likely outcome would have been that he failed his assignment, and been captured and killed for the attempt.

A tear pricked at Irvine's eye before he brushed it away harshly. He didn't cry. Not over something from so far back in his past. That was a whole other lifetime away, when he was a kid, when he only had that other boy for companionship.

Now he was a lone wolf. He didn't need anybody or anything but what he could get himself. He didn't need any help, he didn't need Zell doing his half-arsed job of looking out for him, and he _certainly_ didn't _need_ Seifer for anything.

Still, the foggy memories tugged at his heart. He hadn't felt emotional hurt for a long time. Maybe it hadn't been such a good idea to contemplate the past. It was just a mark, not anything special. But…

Javier's mark wasn't just some creative little tattoo. The younger inmate didn't even seem like the type that would willingly have his skin abused in the name of art. Though, Irvine supposed, he'd probably get one if that tattoo-obsessed guard wanted him to.

But Javier's mark wasn't colored ink. It was raised, white skin. The only two things Irvine could imagine making a mark like that were a hot brand or a sharp blade. He gave a little shudder at the thought. He was all well and fine with a fast, easy kill, but the idea of causing that much pain, especially to someone like Javier made him cringe.

"Have you been in here the whole time?" Seifer asked, lifting a brow as the cell doors closed behind him. "Most of us like to spend the time we're allowed out of the cells _out of the cells_."

Irvine shifted a little on the top bunk, then turned to look over the side at his blond cellmate. "I've been thinkin'. And I still am so fuck off."

"Can't. Got lock up for a bit, so you're stuck with me. Not that you mind, right fucktoy?" Seifer grinned and patted Irvine's elbow before dropping down onto his bunk.

"Ever call me that again and you'll be fuckin' sorry, Jade."

"Oh, I'm shaking in my boots. What's kept you occupied since lunch?" Seifer lifted one leg and crossed it over his raised knee. "Needed some "alone" time, hm? Guess I'm not doing a good enough job."

"Fuck you, you big, blond, egotistical, sex driven prick. I were just _thinkin'_, like I said. And I ain't needin' anything from either of your ego inflated heads." He shifted to the side of his bunk nearest the wall when Seifer gave a halfhearted kick to the bottom of his mattress.

"Thinking about all the things you'd just _love_ me to do to you? I know I'm irresitable-"

"Oh _shut up_! You're drivin' me crazy! Just shut your mouth. I don't know how to make it any clearer to you."

"Don't fucking tell me what to do, Paris. I'm the big gun in here, not you. Why don't you give me some incentive to leave you alone?"

Irvine glared at the wall. "Like what, Jade? You want me to suck you off for a couple hours of silence? Fuck you. You shut the fuck up and maybe I won't be _quite_ so averse to your advances _later_."

Seifer was quiet for a short while, thinking over the offer. A slightly more willing Irvine would mean more pleasure for him in the long run. Though, annoying the hitman until he was about to lose it was its own pleasure. However, his body took precedence over his mind when it came to Irvine Kinneas.

"Alright. I'll shut up and read. But tonight you're mine and you won't be complaining."

"Much," Irvine added. He was grateful for the quiet that followed; only the flipping of pages below him. He could turn his mind back to the past.

Irvine was younger, probably early teens, sitting with another boy on his bed. It was dark, only the lamp from the bedside table shedding light on the two of them. They spoke in whispers; the younger boy's shirt raised on one side and the hem of his pants pulled down just enough to display the mark on his lower back.

Irvine reached out one hand to brush his fingertips over the raised skin; a snake winding around what looked like an egg. "How? Who?"

The other boy bowed his head slightly, sad smile tugging at his lips. "My father used a knife."

His father… The words hung in the air and rang in Irvine's ears. How could his own father do that? He didn't even have a very high opinion of parents, but the actions of the younger boy's father still stunned him. "Why…?"

"I don't really know. He said a lot of things… About rituals and binding blood, rebirth… darkness. It hurt… so much."

_Irvine stood with his back against a wall. The room felt chilly, the floors plain cement and no sign of a window. In front of him was his friend on his stomach, arms wrapped around the bench he was laying on and wrists bound. His ankles were tied to the legs of the bench, preventing any escape._

_To his side sat a man who Irvine guessed was his father. He had a wild look about him, messy hair and eyes that didn't look quite right. He sat calmly on his stool, holding a knife over the flame of a red candle. _

_He turned it over, moved it back and forth so the fire licked the entire length of the blade. Another turn, then he drew the sterilized knife from the flame and made the first cut into the boy's back._

He screamed. Irvine jolted up, giving a desperate cry of the boy's name to the sleeping prison. "Damon!"

Across the main aisle and just a few cells to the left of his own, Javier shifted in Zell's arms.

Chapter 17.

"You look like shit."

"Thanks for that. I'm really fucking charmed by your observations…"

"Now, now, Paris. Be nice."

Irvine glared as Illo settled himself across the table, running his fingers through his hair.

"I ain't _nice_, Prof. I'm a fucking assassin."

"Actually you're a fucking-_toy_. Fucktoy, yeah?"

Irvine was smart enough not to tell Illo where to go and what the hell he could do when he got there, but he did glare.

"I ain't nothin' of the sort," he said, in what passed for a polite tone for him.

"Oh, come _on_. He fucks you at _least_ once a day…"

"Why is my sex life a topic of conversation for every bugger and his cellmate…?" Irvine wondered airily, poking his food around his plate.

"Well, I didn't come over here to discuss that, I came over to discuss the fact that you look like shit, but you gave me the perfect opening."

Irvine just stared at him, looking displeased at best.

"Anyway," Illo continued. "Who's Damon? I bet Jade was pissed."

Pissed was an understatement. For once, they'd both been too exhausted to move when they were done, so they'd fallen asleep _together_. For Irvine to wake up crying someone else's name had actually provoked Seifer to the point of pushing him out of the bunk and onto the cold floor. Irvine was thankful they hadn't been sleeping in _his_ bunk.

"Just some guy I knew," Irvine replied noncommittally, eyes lifting over Illo's head as Zell and Javier entered for breakfast. The young inmate's eyes met his own briefly, and he grinned, but it slipped away at the look on Irvine's face and he dropped his gaze again, hands fisting at his sides. Zell bent a concerned head towards him, but he only smiled unconvincingly, and hurried to join the end of the breakfast queue.

Illo was staring at him when his eyes came back to the other man.

"What?" he asked when no comment was forthcoming from the prison-proclaimed professor.

"Something going on with you and Ink's bitch?"

"What?" Irvine said again in an entirely different tone. "No! Fuck! I ain't no wolf and he sure ain't. What the hell would we do? Plait each other's hair?"

Illo gave a snort of amusement and shook his head, taking a spoonful of his breakfast and chewing thoughtfully. After a long few moments of companionable silence, in which Irvine poked at his toast and Illo devoured half his cereal, the latter finally spoke.

"Well, that or do each other's nails."

"Who's doing who's nails?" Zell wondered, plonking himself down beside Illo and dragging Javier down beside him. Once again the younger man smiled to Irvine, and this time the assassin at least managed a vague twitch of his lips in return.

"Paris's doing Skid's," Illo said with a smirk. Irvine rolled his eyes.

"He thought I been fuckin' your bitch," he said to Zell.

Zell barely managed to swallow his mouthful of breakfast before he burst into a helpless fit of laughter, clinging to his spoon with one hand and pounding the table with the other until tears came to his eyes and Seifer appeared, bacon and eggs in hand.

"What's tickled his fancy?" he wondered with an arched brow, taking a seat beside Irvine and draping a possessive leg over one of the assassin's. Irvine gave a half-hearted glare, but that was all.

"The idea of Paris fucking Skid, apparently," Illo said.

Seifer stared at him for a moment, then he joined Zell in the uproarious laughter. Just when it seemed one of them might stop, he heard the other, and began again, until they could barely breathe, and tears ran in rivulets down their faces.

Illo's lips twitched at the look on Irvine's face – it was pissed off, crystallised and refined until it could virtually strip paint.

"What's so fuckin' funny 'bout the idea of me fuckin' Skid?" he finally snapped, which only sent the blondes howling the louder and harder. The assassin moved to stand, but Seifer's leg tensed where it was, forcing him to remain seated. So he had to sit there and stew while the blondes got themselves under control.

"Yeah, right. Paris fucking my Skid. I'm _really_ worried about that," Zell said with a smirk, eliciting another snicker from Seifer.

"It ain't _that_ damn funny, you fucks!" Irvine snarled. "It's only a _choice_ that I don't _do_ the fuckin'."

"Right," Seifer scoffed, lifting his hands and moving them down either side of Irvine's body in a classic 'hourglass' movement. "You're built to be fucked…" he purred as he did so.

"By Jade," Illo, Zell and Javier added almost in complete unison, then burst out laughing together at Irvine's thunderous scowl.

"Fuck you all," he snapped, and moved to leave again. The strong leg was still locked across his own. He scowled even harder at Seifer, who just smiled sweetly at him in return. Then a hand dropped to his leg just above where Seifer's thigh lay and smoothed up prison-issue denim, dipping between Irvine's own thighs and flicking a pinkie against the front of the jeans. "Jade," he hissed, but the mob boss was eating with his other hand and conversing with Illo in a completely normal tone about getting a fresh supply of smokes into the prison.

Irvine bit his lower lip when the hand turned, pressing full against the front of his pants and slowly shifting the fingers back and forth. Seifer's eyes slid from Illo's to Zell's and he showed his perfect teeth in a sly smirk before he slipped back into the conversation with Illo. Zell arched a single brow and Javier gave a sudden squeak.

Both of Illo's brows lifted and, after a few moments, despite the fact that Seifer was keeping up his end of the conversation, he stood.

"I think I'll go speak to Boss and the others about this, Jade," he said with a roll of his eyes. Seifer just grinned and nodded and as Illo marched across the room, he could clearly be heard saying; "Fucking pissing contests…"

"I am _not_ a pissin' contest, Jade!" Irvine snarled at that, but then his hands fisted and a whine eased from his throat as Seifer pressed a little harder, still smirking at Zell.

"Zell…" Javier whispered, shaking his head furiously. "Not here. Don't. Please. I can't!"

_Please. I can't! I'm not ready!_ Even the heat of Seifer's touch faded a little at the pleading memory and Irvine tried to pull away.

"Skid…" he said in a desperate effort to bring his thoughts back into line. "Skid, we need to talk."

"Shut the fuck up, Cowboy…" Seifer hissed suddenly, breath hot against Irvine's ear. "No way is that little fuck gonna get his bitch off before me."

"I ain't your bitch!" Irvine muttered, but the shiver down his spine when Seifer gave a dark chuckle and a knowing wriggle of his fingers belied it. "I hate you."

"Liar…" Seifer's voice was a murmur now, and it wasn't about beating Zell anymore. "You're a fucking liar. Tell me you want me."

"I'm sick of you. I _want_ you to piss off and, like, leave me alo-one…" The stutter came when Seifer got his hand inside of Irvine's pants, fingertips easing along twitching flesh.

"You want me to fuck you…" Seifer replied with arrogant certainty. "You want me to strip you naked, pin you against the nearest wall and make you _burn_. You want me to make you scream my name and beg for more. You _are_ my bitch and you love it…"

"Jade…" Irvine whispered, his stomach in knots. He _did_ want that, and he'd let Seifer do it right here, even with fifty other inmates looking on. But he would _never_ admit that. "Jade, stop it."

"No. I never start something I don't intend to finish."

Seifer's eyes slid back to the other pair. Zell's little fangs were locked against Javier's neck now and the smaller man's arms were folded on the table, his burning face buried in them as he nuzzled helplessly at them, whimpering.

"You're a thousand times sexier and more beautiful than that pre-pubescent little baby, and I'll make you do what I want, when I want, whether you like it or not…"

"Javier ain't a baby!" Irvine snapped suddenly, shocking both blondes enough to make them stop what they were doing. That gave Irvine the chance to push Seifer's leg off and he stood, storming out of the room. Seifer, Zell and Javier stared after him.

Javier broke the silence eventually, but only with a confused; "Er…"

Zell shrugged and stood, smirking at Seifer.

"That mean I win…?" he wondered sweetly, then before Seifer could answer, he hoisted the little raven-haired inmate into his arms and marched off with him to take care of the problem he'd caused with his hand.

Seifer scowled and also marched off, intent on finding Irvine.

Three hours later when he had not found Irvine, and had in fact missed turning up for his job (a bad mark for him), he was royally pissed off. He was the kind of pissed off that made even Zell seriously think about ducking for cover. The assassin was going to _get_ it at lock-down…

Seifer ended up waiting there for him until the bars began to roll shut and Irvine slipped in, a look of deep thought on his face. He didn't even acknowledge Seifer, which sent the boiling rage into supernova. As he was climbing up onto his bunk, the blonde lashed out and snatched his ankle, jerking him off the slender ladder. He fell to the floor with a thud and narrowly avoided smacking his skull on the hard surface.

"Fuck, Jade! What the hell?"

Seifer crouched over him, a hand fisted in his shirt and pulled him up a little from the floor, making the muscles in the assassin's stomach twitch in protest against the odd position.

"You're pissing me off, fish," Seifer growled.

"Fish?" Irvine replied coolly with an arched brow. "That the best you can do, Jade? I ain't no fish these days."

Seifer raised a hand and Irvine tensed in anticipation of the backhand he was sure was coming, knowing he could dodge it with just a twist of his body and arch of his neck. But he was caught of guard when instead of hitting him, Seifer pressed him back to the floor, jerked his collar down and bit hard at the curve of neck into shoulder. He ignored the assassin's thrashing, rode every buck of his protesting body with ease, and remained latched on, sucking with single-minded determination.

"You're mine, Paris… Irvine. I don't like being showed up like that. And I don't like not being able to find you when I fucking want you. You _will_ do what you're told, when you're told to do it, and if I want to jerk you off after breakfast, I damnwell will."

Irvine just lifted his nose and looked down it as though he were sitting on a throne, towering above Seifer, and not pinned beneath him. It dripped with arrogance and tempted the blond to just kill him where he lay. He might have flown completely off the handle, if it weren't for the niggling voice in the back of his mind that told him he probably wouldn't win, because Irvine could probably kill him ten ways without needing a weapon. The assassin saw the conflict in the green eyes and smirked.

"That's right, baby… back off…" he murmured.

Seifer did, but only as far as letting go of his shirt and sitting up. He still remained straddling the slim hips. Irvine folded his hands behind his head and arched a brow in question.

"You piss me off," Seifer growled.

"Oh, I know. And it's hot as all get out…" was Irvine's curling reply. "Why else you think I try so _hard_ to piss you off…?"

The older inmate blinked, surprised by that. He'd never considered that every press of his buttons was _purposeful_ and _calculated_. His eyes narrowed a little and he leant over Irvine, hands flat against the cold floor to either side of his head.

"You're fucked up, cowboy…" he said lowly, almost nose-to-nose with the other man.

"I know…" Irvine whispered back, a hand lifting and slipping into the short golden hair. "And you stroke every fucked up nerve I got… No one's ever made me so hot…" he admitted, heart a little quickened just by having Seifer over him. He knew why he felt suddenly vulnerable, why the words were coming when he'd rather they not.

Javier.

Oh, he was going to cry… Why did Seifer have the ability to crumble _all_ his walls?

Sure enough, tears welled in his eyes as he gazed up into the pair above him, confusion written in the jade depths. And he was surprised when, instead of taunting him, or telling him to stop, Seifer's arms slid hesitantly around him and drew him up against the broad chest. He took a hitching breath as the blond slid gentle fingers into auburn hair and when Seifer whispered; "What… what's wrong…?" in an uncertain, curious voice, all he could do was cry. He clutched at the back of Seifer's shirt and virtually sobbed, though he kept the sounds low, so as not to alert any of the other inmates to his outbreak.

Seifer frowned and gathered Irvine a little closer, then carefully lifted him from the cold floor and carried him over to their bunks, sliding onto the lower one and pulling the assassin with him. He didn't know what was wrong, but the fact that he cared scared him. Why did this infuriating man suddenly matter so much to him…?

"Irvine…" he murmured when the man's crying had faded to ragged breathing. "What is it?"

"I… thought he was dead…" Irvine murmured, eyes faraway. He sat with his right side leaning against Seifer, right arm slung around the man's lower back and the left curled in the front of his shirt, head resting against a rounded shoulder. His voice was a little vague as he spoke. "He never came back, and we thought… either he died or got caught… There was no news about him from the prisons, so in the end… well… we assumed he must be dead…"

"Who…?" Seifer asked, not quite caring or patient enough to indulge too much rambling when his curiosity gnawed at him.

"Damon…"

"_Irvine, this is your new little brother. It's your job to look after him, and make sure he studies as hard as you do."_

_The ten year old sniffs aloofly, regarding the younger boy with distaste and hard arrogance. It's been a long time since he's seen another child, longer still since he thought of them as anything but nuisances or obstacles or something to be wary of. But Father is presenting him with this boy, and saying he must take care of him. He always does what Father says._

_Even when it means something has to die._

_Irvine still says nothing, even as Father leaves the room, and only he and the raven-haired Little Boy remain. Little Boy shuffles his feet a little and small whimpers reach Irvine's ears. He's _crying_. Irvine is disgusted._

"_Stop that…" he mutters, hopping off his bed and sauntering over to Little Boy. He's much taller, he notices, and likes the fact. "Father doesn't like it."_

_Little Boy continues to snivel and Irvine sighs, planting his hands on his hips. Eventually, he puts an arm around Little Boy's shoulders._

"_I'm Irvine," he says impatiently._

"_I'm Damon…" the other replies eventually, and turns bright green eyes up to Irvine, a little smile finally breaking across his little face. "So… you're my new brother?"_

_They are like brothers from that moment. Damon doesn't take so well to their studies as Irvine – but Father says Irvine is a natural. Often, Irvine does his work for him, so he won't be punished. But he has to be a little sloppier, more hesitant than usual, because otherwise Father would know he did it, and Damon didn't. Luckily, he's smarter than Father, and luckily, Father doesn't realise he's smarter._

_They share secrets, the stories of their lives before Father, and Irvine learns some people _deserve_ to fall to their work. He would gladly kill Damon's dad, given half a chance. The thought of the symbol scarred into his little brother's skin makes him shiver with anger. The snake around the egg. His own _dad_ did that to him… Irvine's dad never did anything like that, and Father never beat them. Though… there were worse punishments._

_He will never forget that mark. He couldn't._

"_I bet I get back first," Irvine says on that special day, his grin white in the darkness of his black-painted face. "And I bet I get a bigger headline than you."_

_Damon gives a smaller smile._

"_No way," he says, but they both know Irvine _will_ get back first, and if there are headlines, his will be bigger. But then, the trick is making them think it was an accident. Father doesn't like it if there's any suspicion at all._

"_Alright, boys," he says, coming up behind them. "You have your marks, and you don't need my help this time. Soon, you'll both be able to start working for yourselves."_

_Irvine's grin doubles, but Damon only shifts uncomfortably from foot to foot. Father doesn't seem to notice. He gives them both a little push, and they disappear into the night, alone for the first time since they began working with Father._

"He… he never came back. I took my mark out in under a half hour, but Father gave Damon three days. When he still didn't come back, we had to move on, and we never heard anythin' more 'bout him. We thought he must've been killed, and it was hushed up, because his mark was very high-profile and they wouldn't have wanted news to get out that an attempt at his life was made. That were the end of it for me. Carin' for someone, needin' someone… it only gets you hurt. My parents abandoned me, Damon was gone, and in the end, Father turned on me as well, because I was better than he was, and he weren't makin' money anymore."

Irvine trailed off and Seifer frowned in confusion.

"But… why are you suddenly calling out this boy's name in the middle of the night?" he asked, relieved the owner of that name couldn't possibly be a rival.

"'Cause… Javier… Skid's got that same damn mark in that same damn place. At first… when I met him… I thought he just reminded me of Damon… They both had black hair and them green eyes, but… What are the chances… of someone lookin' just like him, only older, havin' that same mark, and it not bein' him?"

"Pretty fuckin' slim…" Seifer acknowledged with a nod of his head.

"Right… but I don't think he remembers. He don't seem to recognise me… He must have forgot…" That sounded a little sad and Seifer stroked a hand down his hair.

"Some people aren't cut out to kill. I'd say Skid is definitely one of those people. He probably blocked it all out, if it is him. You know… re… uh… Fuck, what's that word?"

"Repression."

"Yeah, that's it. Thanks, Giggles. Repr- _Giggles_?"

The guard grinned at him as he looked over to the bars, and her partner stood behind her, also grinning.

"Getting cosy there, aren't you?" Perv said with a positively evil grin.

"So what if we are?" Seifer growled, having no wish to let go of Irvine, no matter what the two idiots might say. "Don't you have rounds to make?"

"Hmm… good point…" the shorter of the two said, and she bounced off, her taller partner in tow.

"Do you ever get the feelin' Giggles only manages to stay employed because Perv is her partner and looks after her…?" Irvine wondered.

"Ever since the first damn day they set foot in here, baby," Seifer replied with a chuckle.

Chapter 18.

After Irvine's moment of weakness had passed Seifer contemplated how this new information could benefit him. If it did nothing else he could hold it above Zell's head that he knew something about the blond's bitch that said blond didn't. Granted, it wasn't difficult to hold anything above Zell's head.

Seifer snickered to himself. Perhaps bothering the tattooed guard was the best idea anyway. He couldn't bring himself to use the feelings of loneliness and abandonment against Irvine, though it almost bothered him that he couldn't. Nor would he let such information become public.

But pestering Zell, with the intent to eventually tell him the truth would inevitably be better for the four men involved. If Javier and Irvine could rekindle their brotherly friendship perhaps the assassin would warm up a little more. And that prospect pleased Seifer's imagination greatly.

Once he had decided on his plan of action he set off to find his little, blond comrade. Some ten minutes later he found Zell lifting weights in the yard. The mobster moved over to him, and stepped up behind the guard's head to take up the unnecessary – in Zell's case – position as spotter.

The shorter blond cocked a brow, completed his set, then set the bar down. He sat up and turned, resting his arm across the bar and looking at Seifer. "What ya want, Jade?"

A wide grin spread across the older man's lips. "I know something you don't know."

Zell's brow lifted higher. "I don't doubt that."

"About your little Skiddles."

"Bullshit!"

"Oh, but I do."

Zell lifted his legs and swung them around so he could face Seifer fully. "No way! Javier tells me everything!"

Seifer couldn't help the growing smirk. "Not if it's something he doesn't know- or should I say 'remember'."

The guard blinked before narrowing his eyes, glaring into perfect jades. "What are you talking about?"

"Hm? Did I say I was going to _tell_ you what it wa- ah!"

Zell sat, eyes glaring daggers and fingers now dangerously firm around Seifer's.. package. Several cat calls and an ever so mature 'get a room' later, the elder blond relented, promising to tell Zell what he knew so long as he could still get it _up_ after _that_ little manoeuvre. Note to self: don't tease people who are directly in front of your crotch and have no qualms over _grabbing_ it.

"But not here." Siefer stepped back when Zell made another grab at him. "It's personal."

The shorter man rose from the bench and gave Seifer a hard look before walking off. The mob boss was quick to follow, the pair ending in his cell, with Irvine thankfully absent.

"What's all this about? What do you know about Javier?"

"I know a whole damn lot. Say, childhood to early teens." Seifer couldn't shake the little grin that still spread across his lips.

"That's impossible! Javier was in a coma for a month when he was thirteen He didn't remember anything, no one claimed him, and he got put into the system."

"Such a little skeptic. Let's see… Now how did it go again? Oh yes. Javier was an assassin-in-training."

Zell lunged at him, hand going for his throat. "Liar! You liar! Javier can't even get over the _accidental_ death he caus- Irvine…"

"Air…"

"Oh, right." The guard unwound his fingers and stepped back, allowing the hard punch to his shoulder.

"Little fuck. And yes, Irvine. You'll be pleased to know Skid never actually killed anyone. And frankly, from the sound of it, he didn't kill any_thing_ either."

"He was never born to kill…" Zell's eyes moved to the bars, looking through to the other side of the aisle where Javier's cell was. "What else do you know?"

"His name is Damon, He was orphaned as a child and taken in by the man Irvine calls 'Father'. He and Irvine were like brothers and Irvine protected him. I guess it was some kind of mission of passage where the two of them had a job to do solo. Skid disappeared, his mark lived, and Irvine never knew what happened to him. That would have been when he was found and in the coma."

Zell sat silently, absorbing the information. And holy fuck, what a load to absorb. "No wonder Javier's so drawn to Irvine. He wants to be his friend so much."

"I think it hurts Irvine, and he won't admit it."

"That Javier doesn't remember- And he's sure Javier _is_ Damon?"

"Yeah, and yeah he's sure. As soon as he saw the mark on his back-"

"It's from a knife, isn't it? Javier could never tell me- Did this 'Father' guy do it to him?" Zell's rage grew quickly at that string of thought. The idea of someone cutting his lover's skin made his blood boil.

"Calm, Zell. It was a knife, but it was his actual father that did it."

The younger blond's eyes grew wide. "His _own_ father? For _fuck's_ sake. That's probably best left forgotten. But, Javier has the right to know. Would Irvine talk to him about it?"

"I don't see why not now." Seifer shrugged. "I'm sure he wants to get it off his chest to the one person it really would matter to."

"Well, then you go talk to Irvine about it, and I'll try to prepare Javier-"

"That is one of your talents." Seifer grinned.

Zell rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Not _that_ kind of prep. Give me until tomorrow."

"Sure, afternoonish?"

"Probably."

Zell had offered to stay with Javier while Irvine told him about their past together, but the younger man had assured him he would be fine. Instead Seifer played personal guard to the "long lost brothers" while Zell made himself scarce at a guard's meeting.

Javier crying in his cell wasn't exactly a terribly rare occurrence, and these days the inmates didn't even comment on it. Which could have had something to do with what happened to the last couple who tried to make fun of the dark haired man.

Things would only cause suspicion if they saw it was the cold hearted, asshole, Irvine Kinneas who was comforting the distraught young man. So, despite Zell's objection he was to stay out of inmate sight so that they would assume it was Zell in Javier's cell with him. And Seifer would glare at everyone that passed hard enough to send their gaze elsewhere.

Javier had indeed cried; clung to Irvine tightly, just as he had when they were little, and curled up in his arms. The assassin told him everything he thought the younger man should know, and the rest when he begged. He needed to know his past, know who he had been and where he had come from. The information about his father was one of the things that made him break down, and Irvine had paused in his story to hold him close and soothe him.

The dark haired man had been worried when Irvine brought up their childhood together; worried that he'd killed animals, planned murders. But he was thankful for the fact he did not excel at planning the end of someone's life, nor had he the stomach to kill anything. Irvine had worked twice as hard, for him. Even though he said Javier's work had been easier, the younger man was still more than grateful.

He still couldn't remember any of his past himself, but he had always felt a bond between himself and Irvine since the day he'd come to the prison, and hearing of their past together only solidified his feelings towards the hitman.

They had been closer than brothers, living together through a twisted childhood. And going to prison had brought them back together. It had also given Javier back his past and given him the love of his life.

When the two had wrapped things up it was time to head to dinner. The bustle of moving inmates made it easier for the three to slip into the mass with no one he wiser to what had transpired. Javier walked next to Irvine, light smile on his face and feeling luckier than he had in a long, long while.

Chapter 19.

There was a routine to prison life, both the obvious – eat, exercise, eat, work, eat, sleep – and the not so obvious – gamble, smoke, sex, smoke, read, sex... – and Irvine found himself moving quite easily to this routine.

He didn't like when something different happened – and neither did Seifer. There had been a quality to the sex that was about to happen that Irvine couldn't name, but he was desperate to define it, and knew his wolf had been too. But they'd been interrupted, by 'Captain Hardarse' no less, who had unceremoniously dragged the assassin off Seifer, where he had been happily stretched, luxuriating in the way the mob boss was stroking and petting his hair and back, laying kisses to his brows, the bridge of his nose, his jawline...

Off balance and unsuspecting, Irvine had ended up face-down on the concrete floor – not a happy place to be when he had been getting, to put it lightly, a bit excited. He smacked his forehead, too, hard enough to see stars, and he heard Seifer lunging off the bed, but of course Kinley hadn't come alone, and his cronies put a stop to any idea of retaliation, catching hold of the blond's arms and preventing him from doing anything. That Seifer would try so heartily to leap to his defence did please the assassin, though.

"Fuck..." Irvine hissed, pushing himself up a little, but he composed his face and didn't give the arsehole the satisfaction of seeing how much that had really hurt. A boot pressed between his shoulderblades forced him to the floor again and Kinley leant forward, folding his arms across his knee and putting most of his weight on the boot, forcing the breath from Irvine's slowly compacted lungs.

"Mornin', cowboy..." he growled in a pathetic imitation of Irvine's drawl. "Sorry if I... innerrupted anythin'..."

Irvine took very shallow breaths – he'd suffered so much worse during his training, and still kept himself supremely disciplined. If the idiot thought this scared him, he had another thing coming. He didn't even squirm.

In the end, one of the other guards, cleared his throat nervously and muttered something about bruises and inmates dying and Kinley took the hint. He backed off and dragged Irvine to his feet. Both the assassin and Seifer were pleased to see the boiling irritation in the man's face at the fact that Irvine's own expression was impassive – he even lifted his head in that way he had, and looked down his elegant nose at the guard.

"Mornin', Kinley..." the assassin replied calmly. "Of course we wouldn't begrudge _you_ interruptin' us. We do so adore your visits..." He dropped his voice, to a dangerous murmur that sent shivers of desire down Seifer's spine and an icy finger of fear down Kinley's; "You should, like, watch who you push around, partner... Never know where it might land you..."

Seifer snickered as Kinley paled at least three shades and the two holding him swallowed.

"What're you doin' here, anyway...?" Irvine wondered after a long moment of silence from them all.

"You've got an appointment with Miss. Trepe," Kinley said sharply, a hand going to the cuffs hanging at his duty belt.

Irvine smirked and offered his wrists.

"Lead on," he purred. "I ain't gonna say no to a meetin' with such a pretty li'l thing..."

Seifer's lip curled, but Irvine just winked at him and blew him a kiss as Kinley lead him off.

"Later..." the blond growled. Irvine nodded slightly, and then he was gone.

"So... there's nothing important you wish to discuss?"

Irvine reguarded the bespectacled psychologist quietly, his expression granite – as it had been for the last half hour – and shook his head. There was too much in his mind, too many things going on and he had no desire to spill it to her, so he had blathered on about insignificant things, distracting her and keeping her away from the topics that were really on his mind.

But she had just worked out that was what he was doing, and so he had fallen completely silent when she started asking more direct, probing questions.

She didn't need to know about Damon. She didn't need to know about his own past. And she most certainly didn't need to know about some of the other things he'd been thinking on.

"Nothing?" she repeated more firmly.

He smiled sweetly and shook his head.

"Nothin'..." he drawled back at her.

She pushed her glasses up her nose.

"What about your original... displeasure with this place...?" she prompted, but he only shrugged his shoulders.

"Even the worst situations get better, right?" he replied, smiling sweetly at her. "I've adjusted."

"And Mr. Almasy has helped you with that?"

Irvine looked blank.

"Who...?"

"Mr. Almasy."

He shook his head and lifted his hands in a classic 'no idea' gesture.

"Seifer."

"I don't know who you might be meanin'," he said infuriatingly.

"Jade!" she clarified in sudden exasperation and he smirked, all too pleased with having force her to use his lover's prison tag.

"Oh. Him. He's okay."

"Okay?" she echoed. "I was under the impression you... rather like him..."

Was she _blushing_? Did the idea of Seifer fucking him actually _embarrass_ her, when she had spoken so easily of Zell's possible issues the first time he'd met with her...? Oh, that was too rich. And no way was he going to let her escape without playing on that for all it was worth.

"Rather...? Hmm..." He shifted a little, leaning back in his chair and letting his legs fall apart, one hand dropping 'casually' to rest on the inner curve of one thigh, close to his fly. "Yeah, I guess you could say I, like, _rather_ enjoy his company... especially the way he fucks me..."

Oh, yes, she really _was_ blushing!

"Mr. Kinneas, I don't think that's-"

"But you asked. Don't you wanna know... how good it feels to have him insida me...? How strong and amazin' he is and how big 'n' hard his cock gets...?" Irvine licked his upper lip and shifted a little. He wasn't even really faking. Talking about it made him tingle all over. "How 'bout-"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Kinneas! I'm afraid your time is over for today!" she cried suddenly, standing quickly. He blinked languidly up at her.

"But I ain't finished... I mean, he-"

"Guard!" Miss. Trepe called. "Guard, we're finished in here. You can take him back."

Irvine grinned as Kinley returned, catching hold of the chain between his cuffs and pulling him to his feet by them. He toyed with the idea of telling the man that actually kind of turned him on, but he didn't need another black eye. He largely ignored the man and his flunkeys as he was lead back to the cell block, and even dared to give a huge yawn as he was released. The guard curled his lip and stalked off as the bars rolled shut, and Irvine finally couldn't resist. He hung through the bars, and called; "Oh, Hardarse, I _do_ love it when you're rough..."

He saw the man shudder and smirked, then he shuddered in an entirely different manner when Seifer's warmth came against his back. Strong fingers wrapped around his wrists and lifted his arms, coaxing his own fingers around the bars and covering them with broader hands.

"I would love to watch you kill him..." Seifer purred in Irvine's ear and the assassin's eyes slid shut, his teeth catching his lower lip. "I can just imagine how you'd do it... fuck, it's hot..."

"You know it, baby..." Irvine whispered back, turning his head a little and brushing his lips through the soft blond hair he could reach, Seifer's own lips now pressing kisses to his shoulder. "I'd put on such a show for you..."

Seifer chuckled, deep and throaty, the sound ending around his tongue when it slid out to taste the curve of Irvine's shoulder.

"I bet you'd like the audience, too. Show off..." he whispered, nosing the assassin's ponytail to one side so he could bite gently at the first bone of his spine.

"Sure I'd like you to see what I'm best at..."

"Irvine... I see what you're best at every time I fuck you..."

"Please..." came the delicate whisper, the word that Seifer usually struggled to extract from the controlled killer. Both blond brows arched.

"Eager..." he observed, sliding a hand down between the cold bars and the warmth at the front of prison-issue jeans.

"From before," Irvine explained. "And... I were describin' how good you feel to Miss. Lens... Turned me on."

"And Hardarse dragging you around on those cuffs...?" Seifer hazarded, curling his fingers around the auburn ponytail and pulling Irvine's head back, now nipping at his jawline.

"Yeah. And that..." he admitted.

"You're a bigger kink than Ink."

"Hey... that rhymes."

"What do you know? It does. Shut up and let me make love to you."

Irvine made an agreeable sound and then it became a soft moan as Seifer dipped his fingertips below the waistband of his pants. He was soon drawing Irvine back to the bunks and they returned to where they had been, Irvine stretched out atop Seifer and the latter running a broad hand down the assassin's spine.

"Tell me again..." Irvine whispered right against Seifer's ear, lipping at the skin in between words. "What do you want me to let you do...?"

Seifer was silent for what Irvine judged to be at least a full minute, even his hands stilled and the assassin wondered if he shouldn't have pushed it. The blond wasn't the type to be affectionate. He could be gent_ler_, but not gentle, attentive, but not affectionate.

Never affectionate.

And yet... the way Seifer had touched him before he had to leave. There _was_ gentleness, and there _was_ affection, and Irvine wanted to clear it up right now. He couldn't exist in a grey area, it wasn't how he worked. He had to know where he stood, what the rules were, and, his lover being the unpredictable being he was, that only made it even more imperitive.

"You heard what I said," Seifer asserted lowly after that time had passed, and the fingers of his free hand twisted into the back of Irvine's singlet, daring him to disagree. He knew better.

"I heard what you said," he agreed, and didn't fight when the hand in his ponytail drew him back so Seifer could meet his eyes.

"So why ask me to repeat it?"

Irvine hesitated, hating his own weaknesses, his insecurity, his _need_. All those things he had locked away for so long, all those things he never wanted to have ever again. He realised they were all back, they were all there, those feelings that lead to the greatest of hurts. But he had asked the question of Seifer, he had pushed for the redefinition of their relationship, and he couldn't back out. He couldn't get away.

_Unless I kill him._

Oh, it came so easily. That thought. An automatic reaction, but he knew the moment he had it that he couldn't do it. Well, he _could_, physically at least. He was atop Seifer right now, the blond in the more vulnerable position, and there were so many potential weapons, even beyond the press of his own thumbs to an easily-located windpipe. But he just wouldn't. The need wouldn't let him.

"I asked... I..." Irvine cleared his throat and took a moment to play out exactly what he wanted to say in his head, so that he wouldn't stutter again, because he hated that too. "I asked because I need to hear it again. It scares me, but I want to hear it... from you."

His life was playing out like the worst kind of romance novel in existance, and he couldn't believe the words coming out of his own mouth. It was pathetic, and he wouldn't blame Seifer if he threw him out of the cell right now and demanded that he grow a pair.

The blond was silent a moment, then he rolled them both over and settled above Irvine, fingers coiling with those of assassin to either side of his head.

"Let me make love to you," he repeated with the same unflinching strength as he approached everything in his life. There was no question for Seifer. Irvine wondered how long he had felt that way. He had honestly never expected it.

"I never thought I'd hear you say somethin' like that, Almasy," he replied, meeting the green eyes.

"I never thought I'd say it. Ever. To anyone." There was a long pause, then Seifer's brows drew together in a frown. "And you better not let anyone else hear I did, either."

Irvine laughed softly.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

"Damn right."

Irvine's laughter turned into a sly smirk and he slid the fingers of one hand into Seifer's hair.

"Well, as long as you say it to me all the time."

"That I want to make love to you?"

"Naw. 'Cause I know you won't always want to. I know you, like, enjoy other things as well. I just wanna hear that you love me."

That was one step further, and Irvine licked his lower lip, momentarily nervous. But the mob boss didn't even hesitate.

"I love you."

Irvine smiled a little.

"I love you, too."

"...We're making me sick," Seifer decided, but he was grinning and Irvine laughed again.

"You started it," he pointed out.

"Shut up," was all Seifer deigned to say, and then he kissed the assassin, and there was no argument whatsoever from the mouth he claimed.

Irvine wouldn't have dreamed of it.

They sat down to breakfast the next day without any ceremony or any different behaviour, but when Zell sat across from them, he was peering closely at them. It didn't take long for it to get on Seifer's nerves.

"What the hell are you staring at, Ink?" he growled.

"You," the tattooed blonde replied and Irvine snorted in amusement.

"No duh, Ink, really. You know that wasn't what I meant."

"There's something weird about you..." the guard muttered, looking between them. "I mean really weird."

"There ain't nothin' weird 'bout us when compared with _you_," Irvine replied smoothly and Seifer smirked.

"Shut up," Zell muttered, running his fingers through the softer hair behind his ear. "I'm serious."

"Whatever, Zell. You're imagining things..." Seifer said in a 'that's-the-end-of-that-or-else' voice. Wisely, Zell left it alone... for the moment anyway.

For some reason, he came to the conclusion that, of the pair of cold-hearted, buisiness-minded egomaniacs, Irvine was the more likely to explain to him what it was about them that was 'weird' as he put it. And so, when Seifer left for a visit with the doctor, he went to pester the assassin, who was stripping just about everyone of their cigarettes with his stony pokerface.

"Hey, Paaaris..."

"Busy."

"Paaariiis."

"Fuck off, Ink. 'M busy."

Zell dropped his eyes to Irvine's cards and both brows arched as the assassin raised his oppenents by ten cigarettes, but his hand was all odd cards and different suits, and of low numbers too. The next player groaned and folded, the next raised another five, and the next hesitated, but raised again. Once more, Irvine pushed another ten cigarettes into the pile.

"I thought you were supposed to have cards that match, Paris..." Zell said innocently, and watched the assassin twitch violently as his opponents smirked and proceeded to see him, forcing him to show his mismatched cards, and give over the pot.

The assassin turned fast as a striking snake, but Zell was ready for him and just as fast. He dodged back, laughing, and the killer lunged again. Again, the guard dodged, and in this way, lead Irvine all the way back to his cell.

Then, when Irvine's final lunge brought him inside the cell, Zell caught his wrists and wouldn't let go, no matter how much he flailed and twisted. And in the end he fell silent and met the guard's manic grin with impassive eyes.

"The hell, Ink? Really."

"What's going on?" the blond asked without preamble.

"I'm tryin' to play poker," Irvine replied, poker face still in place.

"That isn't what I meant and you know it."

"Nothin's goin' on. Business as usual," Irvine said lazily. "Seifer's fuckin' me, you're fuckin' Skid, all's right in the world."

Zell frowned a little, squinting hard at Irvine.

"Seifer?" he echoed.

There was a minute pause, almost so small as to not be there at all, but Zell noticed it, and it spoke volumes when it came to the assassin he held.

"Jade, Seifer, whatever, right?"

"No. Not 'whatever'. 'Less you're screaming it, I've never heard you call him by his name."

"Ain't been listenin' hard enough," Irvine asserted, trying once more to pull away.

"Uh-uh. Believe me, cowboy, I'm all ears when _you_ speak." He half-closed his eyes. "Your voice is the hottest thing out."

"Mind letting the fuck go of _my_ lover?" Seifer's hand fisted in the back of Zell's singlet. "And stop looking at him like you're undressing him with your eyes."

Zell laughed softly.

"I _am_ undressing him with my eyes..." he said, but he let go of the assassin's wrists.

Seifer reached past him and pulled Irvine to himself by way of a hand around his singlet strap. He curled an arm around the slim shoulders and glared at Zell like an unhappy mountain lion over its kill.

"I'm gone for five minutes, and you're pawing my stuff," he growled.

"Is it just me, or have you gotten even _more_ possessive lately?" Zell muttered, running a hand through the side of his hair, above his ear so as not to disturb his upswept bangs. "Chill out. He isn't going to let me do anything anyway."

"Damn right he isn't," Seifer said lowly, then lowered his head to suck and bite hard at the junction of Irvine's neck and shoulder, just to prove his point. Irvine melted in his arms and murmured wordless encouragements while Zell shifted a little where he stood.

"Can you... stop that, please?" Zell muttered through his teeth. "And tell me why the hell you two are all... well... _lovey dovey_..." He stilled suddenly, though neither of the pair before him had even reacted to his words. When he was silent for so long, however, Seifer eventually looked up to find him gaping like a fish.

"...What...?" the taller blond asked quickly.

"You're in _love_," Zell accused, even going so far as to point at them.

"Don't be so fuckin' stupid, Ink. As if-" Irvine started, but Seifer spoke over him with grim determination.

"Yeah," he said. "Got a problem with it?"

Irvine's head whipped around and he stared up at Seifer, eyes going wide before he blinked a few times.

"Seifer, I thought-"

"It's _Zell_," Seifer said, looking at Irvine. "He would have worked it out, and this way, he won't be so annoying."

The assassin stared at him for a moment, then gave a snort of laughter and shook his head.

"Right. Whatever you reckon. I, like, actually think he might be _more_ annoyin'..."

Sure enough, Zell had finished staring open-mouthed and was grinning and in the next moment, he was firing questions at them and teasing them in equal parts.

"Zell, I swear, if you don't shut up..." Seifer growled after a bit.

"Okay, okay," Zell said with a laugh. "I just can't get over the pair of _you_. In love."

"You, like, shouldn't be so happy, Ink. Don't it mean you're even less likely to get fucked by him...?" Irvine pointed out.

"Meh, hasn't happened for weeks anyway. At least maybe this way he'll stop being a possessive jerk."

Seifer tightened his arm.

"...Well, maybe not," Zell decided, then he shrugged. "But whatever. This is awesome. When are you getting married?"

Irvine glared at him.

"Oh, please. As if we're doin' that," he muttered.

"I dunno. You'd look pretty good in a little white dress..." Seifer smirked.

"...Forget it."

"Yeah, where would you get one of those in here?" Zell asked, matching Seifer's smirk.

"Well, I'm sure Giggles and Perv would oblige. And probably preside over the ceremony..."

"Seifer!" Irvine smacked him and stalked out of the cell.

Zell grinned.

"Who'd've thought. You, of all people," he said, smiling at Seifer.

"Oh, don't look at me like that..."

"Like what?"

"Like a proud father. It's sickening." Seifer paused, then he grabbed Zell's singlet. "And if you say _anything_ to _anyone_ about this..."

"Relax, Jade. I promise I won't ruin your reputation... What about Skid?"

"Yeah, okay, you can tell your little boy, but that's it."

"He's not a-"

"I know, Ink. I know."

"You know... I hate to say it, Seifer, but... when you told Zell... that made me real happy," Irvine murmured that night, when they lay curled up together on the top bunk, both sleepy and happily sated.

"Why do you hate to say that?" Seifer wondered with a chuckle.

"Because it's so fuckin' sappy," the assassin replied, grinning against Seifer's throat.

"That's alright. I swear I won't tell anyone..." Seifer ran his fingers through Irvine's hair, sighing happily. "I love you."

"I love you, too..." Irvine replied, happily draped over Seifer, nose tucked against the man's neck.

"It's a lucky thing," Seifer murmured.

"Why's that?" Irvine wondered, eyes half-closed as he enjoyed the movement of Seifer's fingers through his hair.

"Because we're stuck here together for a long, long time."

AK: And here endeth the tail. XD


End file.
